Chicken Thief
by Saskia Q
Summary: Derek, an Alpha wolf, lives alone, and he prefers it that way. He doesn't need a young, lively cub keeping him company, no matter how attractive the young man is. Especially when Stiles wakes the need for a mate inside him, a need he buried a long time ago.
1. Chapter 1

The gunshot rang through the air, brushing his brown fur. Stiles shook the excess chicken feathers from his mouth and hoped they didn't cling to his coat.

The little wolf leapt over a fallen log and charged across the road, the black asphalt cold on his pads. If the farmer didn't want wolves feasting on his chickens, why did he leave them outside in an easily accessible cage? After the long and harsh winter, what did the humans expect him to eat?

Maple leaves and pine needles crunched under his feet as Stiles charged into the forest. There was no cover for him back in the valley, only bare fields with little sprouts of green rising from the earth. But that's where the food was, the food that was easiest to catch. Big game, like deer and moose, needed a whole pack to take one down. And Stiles wasn't a whole pack, he was just one measly omega, all on his own. No way he could catch a deer, unless it was only a fawn. But that made the bucks angry, and an angry buck with sharp, stabbing antlers isn't something the little wolf wanted on his tail. One of them is worse than an angry farmer. Plus, if the valley wolf pack caught him hunting in their territory, they might rip him apart.

At least his old pack only cast him out. Not enough food to sustain a pathetic beta, they said. No need for something so weak in our proud pack. That was almost five years ago, and Stiles had proven them wrong. He might be an omega now, but he wasn't weak or pathetic. He'd survived this long. He'd survive longer still. As long as the angry farmer didn't shoot him first.

Another blast shook the air. Stiles dodged trees, leapt over ferns and bare bushes, but the footsteps thundered behind him. Branches whipped past his snout and grabbed at his fur. Roots reached for his feet as if they wanted him to fall. How could the whole forest be against him?

A strange odor tickled his senses. Another wolf? It wasn't the valley pack. They had a distinct smell that made Stiles's nose twitch. This was a different fragrance, rich and musky, better than any animal he'd ever smelled. How come he never noticed another pack in this area before?

Stiles perked his ears. He was close to the edge of the deep woods. Only a few humans lived that far up the mountain, and they usually kept to themselves. The soil's rich smell excited his senses. No more gun shots. No more dumb farmers chasing him through the woods! He was free and alive!

He skidded around a bush and stepped on something hard, buried beneath the rotting leaves. A click rang through the air, and the trap closed on his leg. Pain erupted throughout his entire body, the sharp metal teeth digging into the thin flesh along his ankle and cracking the bone in half.

Stiles yelped. His cry of agony echoing loudly through the forest. The farmer's footsteps crunched through the undergrowth. Closer and closer. Every step made the fur on the little wolf's neck rise. The trap was pinned to the ground with a long metal rod. No matter how hard Stiles yanked at it with his mouth, it wouldn't come free.

Hands would be better in this situation. They gripped things with more dexterity than wolf teeth. But if he turned into his other form, the farmer would learn the truth.

Stiles yanked at his foot, the pain shot through every nerve in his body and the whole world went dark for a moment.

"Steven, what the hell is going on out here?" another man asked suddenly. His rich, deep voice resonated all the way into Stiles's bones. When did that human get here? The omega squinted through the trees, but the humans were too far off to see.

"Damn wolf got to my chickens again. Ate the last five, so I'm putting an end to it."

His gun clicked, and Stiles flinched at the sound. One shot could kill him easily. Maybe they wouldn't notice him in the dim morning light. The bushes and ferns might cover him from view. Might keep him safe if they couldn't sniff him out. No dogs. That was a good sign.

Then the hint of wolf musk caught his nose. Another wolf? Where? What would it do? Kill him and the farmer?

Someone swept aside the underbrush and revealed Stiles's hiding place. The little wolf stared at both men with wide, brown eyes. One was a normal human, the other was anything but.

He stood at least a head taller than the farmer, and his broad shoulders were twice as wide. His handsome face, the skin rough with stubble, looked like it was carved from pale stone, he had a sharp, proud nose, dark black hair and his green eyes narrowed when they met Stiles's. This wasn't an ordinary wolf standing in front of him. This was an Alpha.

"This is a gray wolf, Steven. You can't kill it."

The farmer snorted and popped two more rounds in his shotgun.

"No one's going to miss a little nuisance like him. Are you going to stop me, Hale?"

The huge wolf stepped in front of the man, shielding Stiles from harm. "Are you going to shoot me to get to him?"

The man's dark eyes flashed and his hand tightened on the gun. Then he raised it to the wolf's broad chest. "You have any idea what kind of money that animal cost me? Now I've got to replace all my hens and two roosters. And you're going to protect it?"

The wolf nodded. "Unless you put a hole in my chest. I might even stop you after that. Guess you'll have to shoot me and find out."

The forest hung silent around them. Stiles heard each man's heart thumping. The farmer's heart had an angry rhythm, while the Alpha's was as calm as if he slept.

Finally, the farmer lowered his gun and made a loud, unpleasant sound through his nose. "You going to nurse that monster back to health? Hope the damn beast gives you rabies. You deserve it." the man muttered and turned away. His footsteps faded into the woods. The Alpha wolf turned to Stiles and bent down.

"You're all kinds of stupid, aren't you, cub?" he said and pulled the long metal rod from the ground. Stiles whimpered as the man lifted him. The wolf was careful not to pull Stiles's leg, still caught in the trap, as he carried the omega through the woods. This big wolf wasn't going to kill him, wasn't going to hurt him. The Alpha saved him. Why?

"Good thing you didn't shift in front of that bastard."

The forest blinked in and out of focus. Stiles rested his weary head on the wolf's powerful shoulder. Why did this wolf rescue him? The thought tugged at his mind the entire way through the forest. Finally, the trees broke and the man walked up to a little cabin tucked at the end of a long drive.

To be continued …

* * *

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

This story is based on the book Wild by Zoe Perdita.

The amazing Sterek art used for my book cover is from the very talented Slashpalooza at Deviantart.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	2. Chapter 2

The porch creaked under the Alpha's steps as he opened the door. The little wolf perked his ears. Stiles hadn't been inside a human dwelling in over five long years. The scent of meat and cooking filled his nose, although an undercurrent of dust was a close second.

Without a word, the man set Stiles in a bathtub. The bathroom light above the big wolf flickered.

"Now, it's going to hurt when I take the trap off. You better not bite me. Got it, cub?"

The little wolf nodded and set his jaw. Could the pain be worse than when the trap closed on him in the first place?

With large, nimble fingers, the wolf grabbed both sides of the trap and pried it open. The teeth loosened their grip on Stiles's flesh, making the little wolf release a strangled cry, and the world narrowed to nothing but the sharp stab of pain in his snapped leg.

"Damn. Looks like it broke the bone. This'll take some time to heal."

The Alpha's words sounded from very far away, Stiles blinked and lapped weakly at the freely flowing blood, dripping steadily into the tub.

How long would it take? What if a mountain lion smelled him, he couldn't escape a big cat with an injury like that.

The big wolf pulled Stiles's muzzle away from the wound. "That's not going to help as much as you think. I'll clean it up, but you'll need a doctor for the break. It'll heal faster than a human, but that doesn't mean it'll heal properly if we don't set it. Want to shift and tell me who the hell you are?"

Stiles didn't but the man's wide, keen eyes didn't look like they'd take no for an answer. Plus, if the wolf helped him this much, he might even help him after learning the truth. Shutting his eyes, the omega willed his body to remember what it was like to take human form. The dulling of his senses. The feeling of fingers instead of paws. The lack of fur. He'd been a wolf for so long, it was difficult to remember what man flesh felt like.

Slowly, his bones extended and grew. His body bending and breaking. The agony in his leg compounded with the change until he screamed and thrashed, yanking the shower curtain from the rod and pulling the thin clear plastic down on top of him.

"That was unnecessary." the Alpha groaned, leaning against the bathroom wall.

Stiles panted and shivered inside the tub. "Sorry. Long time no change."

The man's green eyes raked over the young boy's body. "I can tell. You really are a cub. How old are you, boy? And where the hell is your pack?"

Stiles rubbed his cheeks, and glanced down at his naked form. "I think I'm eighteen season cycles."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Season cycles? Are you kidding me?"

The little wolf shook his head and tried to remember the human word for such things. "Years. Eighteen years old."

"Just what I need, a cub with a broken leg under my care. Look, I'm going to fill up the bath while I call a doctor friend of mine to fix your leg."

When Derek turned the faucet, cold water sputtered forth like a waterfall. Stiles pressed himself into the farthest edge and waited for it to warm up.

"You've taken a bath before, right?" the wolf asked, his lips pursed into a thin line.

The little wolf nodded. "Yes, but not in a long time."

The man snorted. "Sit still. I'll be back in a few minutes."

The heat of the water soothed the ever-present ache in his leg, though it didn't diminish completely. Closing his eyes, Stiles listened to the wolf talk on the phone to the doctor. Was he speaking to another wolf or a human? The omega didn't know which he'd prefer.

A few minutes later, Derek walked back into the room and turned off the running water. Heat rose to the little wolf's cheeks, fully aware of his naked body on display for the Alpha. "Why did you save me?"

The man looked him over once and sighed. "You sure are quick with the questions, cub. But I get to go first, considering."

"Considering what?"

"That I'm the one who saved your ass."

He was right, and Stiles bit his tongue as Derek knelt by the side of the tub and picked up a cloth.

"Are you the one riling up folks around here?" he asked as he rubbed a bar of soap over the cloth. The overwhelming clean scent made Stiles sneeze before he could answer.

"I was just eating. The winter was long, and I've been hungry."

The man's eyes traveled down his chest, the thinly muscled expanse was tight and wiry with a light sprinkling of hair. Stiles's arms and legs were tightly muscled, even if he wasn't as bulky as this huge wolf. Stiles knew his ribs stuck out, but he wasn't as weak and pathetic as his old pack claimed. He'd be dead by now if he were.

"So where did you come from? Idaho?"

Stiles shook his head. "Beacon Hills, California. It took a long time to get over the desert, but I was living in the woods outside the city and around a few lakes, but the people saw me. I decided to come into the mountains on this side."

Derek's mouth twitched, and his hands hovered over the little wolf's body for a brief second before he swept the cloth over Stiles's flesh. "And how long ago was that?"

The omega didn't answer right away. Something about the man's touch shook any thought of the past from his mind. The delicate brush of flesh against flesh ignited his body, an unfamiliar ache awakening in his chest.

"What?"

Derek pushed him forward and scrubbed up and down Stiles's back, slowly. "How long ago did you get here?"

The little wolf's breath caught in his throat at the sensation, but he swallowed the lump and went on. "Last fall."

"How the hell did you avoid the Deucalions?"

The little wolf squinted at the water. "The valley pack? I went around them to the north. Are they your pack?"

The cloth froze on Stiles's back, and the Alpha took a deep breath. "No."

The little wolf clamped his mouth shut and frowned at his hands. "Where is your pack? I only smell you around here."

The Alpha lifted the omega's arm gently and rubbed the cloth over it. "I don't have a pack."

"Why not?"

"Where's yours, cub? You're not an omega."

Stiles hadn't heard that word in a very long time.

"I'm an omega, but I don't need your pity!"

The Alpha let out a heavy sigh through his nose and sat back on his heels. "Oh, so I should've let Steven shoot you full of holes and mount your hide on his wall?"

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. The world fell out of focus again, the ache in his leg pounding like the steady beat of a drum.

"I didn't mean …" Stiles muttered as the world fell into darkness.

To be continued …

* * *

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	3. Chapter 3

"He should be fine, but I'll have to wake him to set the break."

Stiles tried to open his eyes but it felt as if someone glued them shut. But they were talking about him. He should have some say in what they were going to do.

Then, a sharp odor assaulted his nose and the little wolf's eyes shot open.

"Good. He's awake." the stranger said.

Stiles tried to scoot away, but his arms and legs didn't want to obey his commands. "Who are you?" he gasped.

"This is Dr. Deaton. He's going to set your leg and put it in a splint. It's going to hurt. Ready?"

The little wolf opened his mouth to speak, but the man's small hands were already on him. A moment later, a sharp pain shot through every nerve in his body. Then something hard was placed around his leg, and the man wrapped it up so tight the ache dulled to an ever-present throb.

The wolf leaned over him, a calloused hand brushing the hair from Stiles's forehead. "You'll be fine. It was a simple fracture, but it should heal properly, given your unique abilities."

Stiles didn't know what to say, just that he wanted to say something. Thank you?, maybe, although it didn't really sound like him. He hadn't thanked anyone in years.

"This'll help with the pain." the stranger said, and something pricked Stiles's arm. He tried to sniff the air, to catch the man's scent, but before he got the chance he faded into a dreamy, painless sleep.

The two men looked at each other, then back at the little wolf asleep in the bed.

"You really got yourself into a mess this time. This isn't a baby raccoon, or hell, even an orphaned bear! I'm not going to take him in."

Derek sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I didn't ask for a little werewolf to fall into a trap right next to my property. At least we found out who's been stealing chickens from their pens and meat from the smoke houses."

Dr. Deaton frowned and crossed his arms. "That's not a consolation. He's going to be your responsibility until he heals. Whatever he does, you'll have to answer to the Deucalions."

Typical for Deaton to be wary, but he took it to whole new levels sometimes. "I understand. Believe me. But I don't think the Deucalions even know about him."

Yet. And when they found out, well, Derek wasn't about to hand them another member for their pack.

"I'm more worried about what folks around here will think. The regular folk, not the wolves."

It's not that Derek had many neighbors, or that they were particularly close. He lived almost as far up the mountain as humanly possible for the solitude, but the people around him all knew who he was. Most importantly, they knew he lived alone. Always had, for the most part.

"You could tell them the boy's your nephew." Dr. Deaton offered.

"No!" Derek said, with more force than necessary.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Any reason why not?"

The wolf was not going to tell this man. No way.

"It's not a good idea. Anything else I need to know?"

Dr. Deaton sighed and shook his head. "I gave you the prescription already. He'll need them for the pain. Check on the stiches and clean the wounds daily. Otherwise, make sure he keeps his weight off his leg for a few weeks. It'll heal faster than a human, but that kind of break takes time. Oh, and why did you put a wolf trap out there? Were you trying to catch him?"

Derek furrowed his brow. "No. That's the thing, I didn't."

The man's eyes widened. "Who did? Steven?"

The farmer might've. He was mad enough to shoot a defenseless animal, but that meant he placed it there recently or else Derek would've noticed it sooner. Also, wolf hunting had been illegal for years. Where the hell did a man like Steven Turner get such a trap to begin with?

"Maybe. But that's what I'd like to find out."

Dr. Deaton threw him a wary glance. "If it wasn't Steven, you know what that means."

The wolf rolled his eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Yeah. But we don't know that for sure. Not yet."

He led the doctor to the door, and watched the man climb into his car and rumble away down the mountain.

Perfect way to start the day. Damn. He hadn't even made breakfast yet. Derek slipped back down the hall and peeked into the spare room. The same dusty blue curtains fluttered next to the window, the heating vent underneath picking up the light fabric and moving it with an influx of warm air.

The little wolf lay curled in a ball, though his injured leg was stretched straight. A knot formed in the wolf's stomach as he looked at the sleeping cub. How long had he been out in the wild away from humans? And why the hell didn't a boy like him have a pack? He was probably an omega, but was the rest of his pack slaughtered by hunters, or was it something worse.

Whatever it was, the little wolf hadn't had an easy life. Several thin scars trailed over his back and the side of his chest. His face was angular with a stubborn chin and upturned nose, though his large, brown eyes softened his expression into boyish innocence. The wolf's body was all lean muscle and sinew, not an ounce of fat. Not to mention his gorgeous cock.

No. That's a line of thought Derek was not going to entertain. But why the hell did his skin tingle when he touched the damn kid. And really, that's what the boy was, a kid. Eighteen years old. Hardly out of diapers as far as Derek was concerned. But there was something in the cub's eyes, a flash of old hurt and determination that reminded him of someone else he used to know.

Grumbling, he turned and walked back to the kitchen. At least down the hall he'd be free of the little wolf's alluring scent. Just sniffing it made his whole body ache with desire. It sure as hell wasn't a sensation Derek was going to give in to. He might be forced to live as a damn werewolf, but that didn't mean he had to abide by their outdated and ridiculous customs.

He was a man, not an animal. He'd choose his own way in life. Derek was on the wrong side of thirty, and he liked living alone. Sharing his whole life with another wolf? That sounded like hell.

* * *

Stiles woke to the scent of venison. Very slowly, he opened his eyes. A ceiling with wooden beams? He was indoors?

Then his leg ached, and he remembered the events that led to this moment.

The farmer.

The trap.

The Alpha.

Need pressed at his bladder, and Stiles frowned. He had to use the toilet if he was indoors. Pissing on the dresser wouldn't do. He pulled the covers back and looked at the strange contraption on his leg. It kept his foot from moving, but at least it dulled the pain.

Slowly, he eased his good foot onto the floor and limped toward the door. No good. As soon as he put pressure on his broken leg, the pain shot through his whole body. Stars flashed before his eyes, and Stiles crumpled to the floor, whimpering.

A moment later, the Alpha rushed into the room. "What the hell are you trying to do, cub?" he asked, but knelt by Stiles's side all the same.

"Bathroom." the little wolf managed, his eyes pinched shut.

Large, steady arms hoisted him to his feet and carried him down the hall. "You need to keep weight off that leg for a few weeks. Dr. Deaton gave you a crutch. I thought you'd have the sense to alert me if you needed something, but I guess I should be happy you didn't piss the bed."

Stiles tried to glare, but the throbbing pain kept his face twisted into a grimace instead.

Derek lowered him onto the toilet. The man's large hands sizzled against his flesh, melting away any anger and replacing it with something else. Something that tangled his stomach into knots and made his groin ache expectantly.

"I didn't know you'd help me with that." he finally muttered as the man carried him back into the bedroom.

Why did his cheeks burn whenever he looked at this strange new wolf?

Derek frowned and sat Stiles on the bed. "Well, whether I like it or not, you're my responsibility until you're healed, got it? Now get dressed and we can have breakfast."

"Dressed? Breakfast? I slept all day?"

The man's green eyes trailed over the little omega's naked body. He looked almost as hungry as Stiles felt. No one in his old pack ever looked at him like that before.

With a heavy sigh, Derek left the room and came back a moment later with a pile of clothes in his strong arms. "You're going to be clothed while you're in my care, cub. I'll help with the pants if you need it."

He plopped a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants onto the bed next to Stiles.

The little wolf tried to remember the last pair of clothes he'd worn. Old jeans with a hole in the knee and a faded green T-shirt. They ripped to shreds when Stiles changed. After that, he had no reason to go back to the human world, and clothes were no longer necessary. The sweats and T-shirt the Alpha gave him were both black. Too bad. He preferred green. It reminded him of the woods in summer.

The big wolf knelt down and slipped the sweats over Stiles's dangling feet, his large hands gentle as they guided the material over the cast. The little wolf stared at the edge of the man's cheek, stubble, and the little lines of age around his eyes.

"Scoot up." the Alpha ordered, and Stiles lifted himself as the man slid the sweats around his slender waist. "You'll have to tie that. I don't have anything smaller at the moment, so they're a little big."

A little big was an understatement. Stiles could go swimming in the sweats if he wanted. The man was a veritable giant compared to him, though Stiles knew he'd grown over the last five years. He had to be taller than he was at thirteen!

He pulled the drawstring as tight as it would go and looped it into the only knot he could remember how to tie. Then he got briefly lost in the T-shirt, and the big wolf had to help him find the proper hole for his head and arms.

"I didn't need clothes in the wild." he muttered when he was finally dressed.

"You will need them here. Want me to carry you to breakfast or would you like to try the crutches?"

His cheeks heated again at the idea of being pressed against the man's muscular chest. But he shook his head. "Crutches. I can do it on my own."

The wolf raised an eyebrow, his wide eyes boring into Stiles for a long moment before he said anything. "I suppose you've been doing a lot on your own."

"Yeah. Everything."

"Everything but freeing yourself from a wolf trap." the man reminded him and handed the omega the crutches.

Stiles's eyes stung, and he took a deep breath. Pathetic. Useless. No. He'd survived this long. But now he was in this wolf's debt, who might as well be the mightiest Alpha he'd ever seen.

"You didn't have to save me if you didn't want to. I didn't ask for your help."

"No. You didn't. I wonder what that says about me. You going to get a move on?"

The crutches dug into his armpits, and the clothes itched and weighed down every movement he tried to make. But he wasn't asking for any help. Stiles hobbled after the man all the way into the kitchen. Every step jarred his injured leg, and he bit his tongue to hold back the whimpers.

Derek pulled out a chair for him, and the little omega collapsed into it, his fingers shaking as he set the crutches aside.

"You're stubborn as hell, aren't you?"

"No! I'm just used to doing things on my own."

The smell of cooked meat made Stiles's mouth water, and he stared at the pile of steak and eggs Derek set in front of him.

"Well if you want, you can go back to the woods and take care of yourself on your own."

The omega froze, his hand outstretched toward a large slab of venison. Did the big wolf mean it? Did he want Stiles to leave? Probably. That's how his pack felt too.

"I'll leave if you want. I'll find a way to survive out there without your help." he said, though his stomach rumbled.

Derek sighed. "Shut up and eat your food. But you'd better tell me your story. You can start with your name."

The little wolf devoured a whole steak before he answered. "Stiles." he said around his final bite.

The man ate slowly, cutting his food with a knife and fork, and raised an eyebrow. "Your name is Stiles?"

"I changed it when my pack kicked me out. I didn't want the name they gave me."

The man's brow furrowed, little wrinkles marring his smooth forehead.

"How long ago was that? And will you use a fork with the eggs. You're getting food everywhere."

Stiles obliged. "About five years now."

"Five years? Your pack kicked you out when you were just thirteen?"

Stiles nodded, and the man's eyes burned with a fire he hoped to never be on the other side of. "They said I was too weak to feed. But they were wrong! Look how far I've come in five years. I made it all the way from Beacon Hills. I like it better here anyway. It stays cold longer, but I don't mind. My coat is warm enough . . . usually."

He'd never told anyone that before. Hadn't spoken a word since his former pack abandoned him. Now this wolf, with the startlingly handsome face and beautiful green eyes, got him to say everything he'd bottled up for years. Why?

The man's jaw tensed, and he set his fork on the side of his plate and leaned his powerful elbows on the table. It creaked under the weight.

"What?" Stiles asked. Was the man angry with him? Was he going to kick him out now that he knew the truth?

"This is why I live alone, cub. No good comes from that kind of pack mentality."

Either the big wolf was being kind, or he was taking pity on Stiles. He could stomach one but not the other. He glowered at the man. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me. I can handle anything, even if I'm an omega. I'm not weak. And I'm not a cub!"

For a moment, he thought the man would bare his fangs, but his lips twisted into a smile instead. His green eyes lit up. "If you say so. I still think you're a cub, but that doesn't have a damn thing to do with being an omega. It's on account of how young you are."

Stiles took a long drink of orange juice before he started on his next steak. "Eighteen isn't that young. How old are you?"

A shadow fell over the man's face. "Older than you, that's for damn sure."

Then he picked up his fork again, and the familiar twinge stirred inside Stiles's stomach. The wolf might be an Alpha, but he was also right. His former pack shouldn't have kicked him aside like that, proud wolves would never abandon a member to the forest.

This wolf saved him. After years of being alone, he found someone who didn't want to be rid of him.

"Your name is Derek, right?" he asked, and hated how light his voice got.

The man nodded. "Yes."

That was a nice, strong name, it suited him. "And you don't have a pack at all?"

Derek wiped his lips with a napkin. "No."

"Never?"

The big wolf's eyes flashed, and he pushed his plate aside. "I've been alone for a long time, just like you."

"What about your family?"

Derek's shoulders tensed, and he gritted his white teeth. "They're dead. Are you finished?"

For a moment, it seemed like the big wolf was happy, then his face closed up like a door slamming shut. Stiles grabbed the last steak and chewed while Derek carried their plates to the sink.

"How do you hunt without a pack? You are big but still just one man, one wolf."

The other wolf snorted. "I don't need a pack to help me bring down big game. If you think I'm large now, wait until you see me transformed."

"So you're an Alpha? I thought so!"

Derek frowned and leaned against the sink, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "I'm not."

"What about while I'm here. Aren't I the beta and you the Alpha?"

Derek ran his fingers through his hair. "No. We're not a pack. I'm just helping you until you heal."

For some reason, the words stabbed Stiles in the heart, just like a hunter's crossbow. Of course this wolf wouldn't want anything to do with him once he healed. The man said he lived alone. He probably liked living that way. Stiles should too. He'd been alone long enough. But being around someone was better, or maybe it was just Derek that made it seem that way.

"So I have to leave once I'm healed?"

Dark eyebrows shot up the man's forehead. "You want to stay?"

"I didn't say that. I just want to know what's going to happen. I can leave if that's what you want."

Why was he saying those things? Putting himself on the line like that? If the man shot him down, which he would, it'd only hurt worse. He should just focus on getting better and returning to the woods. Wolves and humans be damned!

Derek's lips thinned into a line and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What the fuck am I doing?" he muttered under his breath. "Look. I'm not a charity. You have to work for your keep, and you can't go living in the woods again. You've got to be human at least part of the time."

Stiles's heart leapt into his throat. "What kind of work can I do? Dusting? Your house needs it."

The man's mouth quirked. "Damn. You don't even have a high school diploma, do you?"

The little wolf shook his head.

"Dusting's a start. If you want, you can help me with my business. I guess I could use an apprentice."

"What business?"

"Hold your horses. Let me finish the dishes, and I'll show you."

After all that time alone, Stiles never imagined anyone would ever take him in, especially another wolf. He watched the muscles on Derek's back move as he cleaned their dishes. The man's shoulders were at least twice as broad as his own. His shirt was tucked into his jeans, his waist as narrow as his hips. And the pants did wonders for the man's ass, it hugged them in all the right places.

Stiles had never met a wolf that caught his attention like that. Static electricity rose across his skin, and his groin tingled when he studied the man's powerful build.

"You haven't found your mate yet, have you?" he asked, suddenly curious.

Derek's shoulders tensed. "No."

Stiles bit back the words he wanted to say. The wolf's musky scent tickled his nose, and he watched the man's shoulders shift under his shirt as he scrubbed each dish clean.

When Derek finally finished, he turned and pointed outside. "My workshop is back in the woods. I don't think those crutches will do you much good in the mud."

Stiles glowered at him, but his stomach turned an acrobatic flip all the same. "So you have to carry me?"

The man sighed. "Only if you want to see my work."

The little wolf pursed his lips. If his paws sunk into the rain-soaked ground, those crutches would be useless out there. "Fine." he mumbled.

Derek didn't smile as he bent to gather Stiles into his arms. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart beat just that much faster, his large hands tenderly gripping the smaller wolf.

Stiles willed his cheeks to remain a normal color, but he knew they wouldn't. Whenever the big wolf touched him it felt familiar and new, all at the same time.

The Alpha walked outside. His home was right on the side of the mountain. Maple and birch, all sprouting new growth, stood interspersed with the larger pines and cedar. A little stream ran behind the home, its current quickened by the spring rains. A garden house stood to the side of the cabin and reeked of deer blood. A smoke hut stood in a little clearing, and another area, where the trees opened to the sky above, was fenced off and cleared for a garden. Otherwise, the surrounding land looked like the rest of the woods, thick with ferns and moss.

Derek trudged behind the cabin, mud staining the cuffs of his jeans. A wooden bridge stood over the creek, and he stepped across it. Stiles fought the urge to nestle his head into the man's welcoming chest.

Then Derek sat him down in front of a building. An ancient tree hugged it, and without his heighted wolf senses, it'd be hard to see. It had wide, sliding doors, and Derek dug into his pocket and unlocked the padlock holding them shut.

The scent of cut wood and sap flooded out as the other wolf opened the doors, and Stiles squinted into the darkness right as light spilled over everything inside. The room was filled with tables, chairs and dressers in various states of completion. Two long workbenches were pushed into the walls, and the center of the room housed several huge saws with dangerously sharp blades.

"Furniture?" Stiles asked and looked at the man's massive arms and his strong, calloused hands as he hefted him back up and carried him inside the woodshop.

"Among other things. I'm a carpenter and a whittler. Think you can learn to do this?"

The little wolf stared at the smoothly carved tables and the intricate designs decorating the back of the chairs. How did he do fine work with such large hands?

No one ever asked if Stiles could do something, they usually just assumed he couldn't. But he'd proven them all wrong, for the most part. Looking at the beautiful things this wolf made, Stiles nodded.

"Yes. I can." the little wolf said, and set his jaw into a determined pout. If that's what it took to earn his keep, he'd do it.

To be continued …

* * *

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles's leg healed over the next month. Derek said something about werewolves having superior healing powers compared to normal humans, and the little wolf decided the man knew more about such matters than he did.

Derek kept him as busy as he could with a knife and scraps of wood. The man worked in his woodshop, sweat beading on his brow, and Stiles watched him with keen fascination. Would his own arms and chest ever grow so massive, or was Derek simply built like that?

The man's heady musk tickled his nose, and something stirred in the little wolf's groin. It happened almost every time Derek was near, and Stiles wondered if the big wolf felt the same ache.

As they sat by the fire in the evening, the flames crackling and sending shadows crawling across the walls, the Alpha taught him how to whittle. His breath blew across Stiles's cheek, his hand hovering above the little wolf's nimble fingers, which adapted to the work well.

"Good. Now try to shave a little off the side. Not too hard. You want a smooth edge there."

Stiles stared at the man's lips and took a deep breath as the knife slipped across the wood. Heat radiated off the big wolf, and a drop of sweat ran down Stiles's back. Any time the man got close to him, he could hardly breathe or think, the only thing he wanted was something he didn't know how to ask for.

When Derek's green eyes caught his own, the big wolf stared at Stiles for a moment before he backed up and sat in his own chair. The little wolf frowned, and his chest welled and ached with disappointment.

Derek cooked every meal, but he roped Stiles into helping him with simple things, like cutting vegetables or cracking eggs. At first, the big wolf did most of this in silence, but after the first week he started talking to Stiles about things, from his woodworking to the spring garden preparations. He told the little wolf about his human neighbors and about the Deucalion pack.

"A bunch of Alpha brothers. It's a good thing you didn't run into them." After hearing about them, Stiles agreed.

The Alpha never skimped on food either, letting the little wolf eat his fill at each meal. It didn't take long before Stiles's slender frame expanded, his muscles tightening as his leg healed. Once he was rid of the cast, he'd hardly look like an omega at all.

Derek taught him how to do human things he didn't have a need for in the forest, like shaving his face at least every other day and washing his hands before he ate. Even when the little wolf messed up, the man was never impatient and never raised his voice, unlike Stiles's old pack. Finally, someone who thought he was worth something, and it was an Alpha, of all things.

Every evening was the same. After their nightly bathroom ritual, the big wolf helped him settle in bed. With the covers pulled over his chest and the dim light tinting everything yellow, Derek took a long breath through his nose and patted Stiles on the hand. The touch sent a jolt through his body, a shiver that made him long for something more.

It clicked into place one night, two weeks after he first met the big wolf. Derek was his mate. He had to be, why else would Stiles feel this way? He'd dismissed it at first since he'd avoided other wolves for so long. But this was different than even the slight crush he'd had on a human boy in his sixth grade science class, this was his body telling him not who he wanted, but who he needed.

"Call if you need anything during the night." the Alpha said and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Curling in bed, Stiles wondered if it was his fault Derek didn't notice his scent, or maybe years of being alone meant he'd tuned it out. Or maybe Stiles's own senses were mistaken. Was that possible? Could he be wrong about the most important part of his whole existence?

No. They were mates, the ache in his heart told him so.

* * *

When Dr. Deaton came over to remove the cast at the end of the month, the pain was almost a memory. Stiles thanked him, despite the fact the man was human. He felt strange, thanking something that could be his prey in animal form, but he did so regardless. Derek probably expected it.

He moved his ankle, and the doctor smiled. "Good. How does that feel?"

"Fine. Still sore but it doesn't hurt so much when I put weight on it anymore."

"I imagine the bone's mended itself. It might take several months for your leg to be in perfect working order. I suggest taking it easy." the doctor said, and cast Derek a meaningful glance.

Stiles wondered what it meant, keep the little runt out of trouble?

"Don't worry Deaton. He's in good hands, and he'll be here for a while. Looks like I found my new apprentice."

The man's black eyebrows shot up his forehead like birds taking off from a tree. "Oh? Good luck to both of you then. I'd keep a low profile if I were you. The Deucalions have been expanding their territory in the valley. Something about traps in the fields set them off, it seems."

Derek narrowed his eyes. "In the fields? Any idea who put them there?"

"No. I only know what I hear, and I'm not about to ask an Alpha wolf pack about it." the man said and wiped a line of sweat from his brow.

Stiles didn't blame him. Humans had plenty of reasons to be wary of wolves. He didn't want to approach the other pack either.

"Thanks for the warning, but the Deucalions don't sniff this far up the mountain. Not if they know what's good for them."

With a stiff nod, the doctor took his leave.

Derek sighed.

"What?" Stiles asked, wiggling his toes experimentally.

"Nothing. You think you're ready to move on to the woodshop?"

The smaller wolf glanced at his line of whittled figurines set out on the window seal. The first attempts looked like little more than crude shapes, but after several tries he was getting better. The raccoon he made the day before actually had some impressive detail, by Derek's own admission.

"Of course!"

* * *

"You look like someone took a weed-wacker to your head." the Alpha said when the little wolf finally lowered the scissors.

Stiles had been trying to cut his hair as the big wolf watched, his reflection contemplative in the mirror behind Stiles.

Stiles glowered at the man's reflection. "I'm just trying to make it short enough."

Derek's lips quirked, his eyes brightening. He slipped the scissors from Stiles's fingers. "I think the lesson here is: you can't do everything on your own. Let's wet your hair and see if it works out better."

Stiles dipped his head under the showerhead obediently, and the man wrapped a towel around the little wolf's shoulders.

"You're doing a better job with the razor, cub."

His cheeks were smoother than they had been, and he ran a long finger over his olive skin. Looking in the mirror, he wasn't sure he recognized himself. The scrawny pre-teen was now a man, even if the Alpha towered over him, but the big wolf towered over everyone. If Stiles stood up straight his head came past the man's shoulder, the perfect height to kiss Derek's powerful neck.

He quickly brushed the thought from his mind as the man ran his strong fingers through Stiles's hair. The touch ignited the fire under the little wolf's skin, and Derek frowned although Stiles heard his heartbeat quicken. The smooth hair slipped through his hands, and he clipped the ends, his brow furrowed and his gaze intense.

Energy prickled on the tips of his fingers, like little jolts of lightning. Every brush of skin against skin sent a surge to Stiles's cock and he pressed his legs together to hide his excitement.

"There." the big wolf said, his voice husky, and he blew the loose hair from the smaller man's forehead. His lips pursed into a frown as Stiles gazed at him, so close and so kissable.

Slowly, the little wolf brought his hand to his head and touched the short locks. Staring at himself in the mirror, Stiles took in the long, dark lashes around his round, brown eyes. He looked older with the haircut, though his eyes still spoke of inexperience and youth, maybe that's why Derek said nothing about them being mates.

"Do you like it?" he asked the larger wolf.

Derek rinsed his hands in the sink. "It'll do. The question is if you like it."

"Yeah. I don't look so young anymore."

The bigger man raised an eyebrow. "Oh, nothing in this world can change how young you look, cub."

Stiles scowled, and stood up straight despite his arousal. "I'm not that young. I'm old enough for plenty of things!"

Amusement tickled Derek's eyes, though a twinge of something else flashed underneath. Sadness? Loss? Anger? Stiles couldn't tell.

"That's what every damn eighteen-year-old thinks, and they're all wrong. You're a cub, Stiles, and only age and experience will change that."

That was the first time in four long weeks the other wolf ever spoke his name, besides the day Stiles gave it to him.

"I have experience." he mumbled.

"Experience in living alone, yeah, I'll give you that. But you're still young and … "

"So teach me!" Stiles said and glowered at the taller man. His musky scent filled the bathroom, stinging the smaller wolf's nose until he thought he'd go mad with it.

Derek took a sharp breath and licked his lips, like he tasted the air. "Teach you what, exactly?"

"Teach me to have experiences. You know, the ones you're talking about." Stiles said, his cheeks burning crimson under the big wolf's cool stare.

The man had to see the bulge in the smaller wolf's pants. He had to know what Stiles was talking about. Why did he ignore it?

"I think you already know what to do with that. Most boys learn by thirteen."

Stiles's breath caught in his throat, and his eyes stung. "I know that! I'm not an idiot and I'm not a pathetic cub. Why can't you just … "

Derek's eyes hardened into ice. "No."

The little wolf's body ached like it never had before. How could the man say that to him? Didn't he feel it? Sense it? Stiles's heart felt ready to explode with the sensation, and he leaned forward, his lips brushing the older wolf's skin. It sizzled under him, and Derek grumbled something incomprehensible, half moan and half sigh.

Then his large hands dug into Stiles's shoulders, and held tight, if just for a moment, before he moved the smaller wolf back.

"No." he said, so soft it was little more than air leaving his lips. "Don't ask me for something you'll regret."

Without another word, the man turned and stepped out of the room.

"But we're mates." the little wolf whispered.

Derek didn't turn around, and Stiles's chest felt like a hollowed out tree as he stared at the big wolf's retreating back.

Why didn't his mate want him?

To be continued …

* * *

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	5. Chapter 5

It took every ounce of self-control to turn away from Stiles and step out of the room. Derek's entire body tingled, his cock throbbing, if the cub pursued him, he wasn't sure he could say no again.

Instead, the little wolf slammed the bathroom door. Derek took heavy, purposeful steps outside the cabin. If he heard the cub whimper, he'd want to do something they'd both regret. Well, Stiles would regret it. What eighteen year old wanted to be tied to an older wolf like him?

Derek shook his head and stepped out onto the porch. He still wasn't far enough away. After a month, Stiles scent hung about the air as if he'd always lived there, as if he belonged. How was he supposed to manage when the damn cub wanted more than he could give? The little wolf was acting on instinct, a dangerous instinct that would lead to nothing more than hurt for them both.

Sun peeked through the trees, a line of it falling across his face. With a growl, Derek slipped off his clothes and gave in to the change. His body bent and cracked, reforming itself until he stood as a huge black wolf instead of a man. With great strides, he took off into the woods. He needed to focus on something else besides the damn cub. A hunt was the perfect distraction.

The little wolf might think they were meant for each other. Stiles obviously felt the same pull as Derek, the ache in his gut and heart. But the older wolf couldn't hurt Stiles like that. He knew better than anyone the scars left by first love.

* * *

Derek didn't feel it, the sensation tugging at his heart whenever he looked at the other wolf. The pull that meant the two of them were meant to be together, live the rest of their lives as mates. But the man didn't kick him out either. In fact, he didn't even mention Stiles's outburst. Over the next week they went to work as if it never happened.

Carpentry was different than whittling. The tools, startlingly fast saws and other sharp implements, had so many safety rules Stiles's mind overflowed with information. Always wear goggles and gloves. Don't run in the workroom. Don't hurry the saw. Guide the wood, don't force it.

He watched Derek, his powerful arms hefting planks into place, the sweat beading on the man's forehead, and his musky scent overwhelming the odor of cut wood.

The saw bit through the planks, depositing them as smaller, workable pieces at the end. Stiles gathered them into a pile and carried them to the workbench. From there Derek taught him how to shape the wood into interlocking pieces and nail them together into tables and chairs. Then they carved designs into the wood, sometimes simple and sometimes intricate.

His voice was always gentle and patient, even when Stiles made a mistake. Derek never yelled or called him names, like Stiles's pack had, and the little wolf's chest ached even more.

When the man stood next to him, glancing at the work the little wolf did, he nodded. "Good. That should fetch a hefty price due to the detail. You're a natural, cub." He raised his hand, like he was going to pat Stiles on the shoulder, but balled it into a fist and turned away.

The little wolf glowered at the chair he carved and bit his tongue.

When a piece of furniture was complete, the big wolf taught him how to sand it and apply a stain and seal over the wood. The finished product nearly glowed in the yellow overhead lights, shining with hours of hard work, something Stiles helped create. He hadn't made anything in a very long time. And he never made anything so beautiful.

"Perfect. That completes the set." Derek said and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. He'd helped the big wolf with other projects, but this was the first time they'd completed anything together, from beginning to end. The oak dining set, four chairs and a sturdy table, shone with a warm brown glow in the sunlight falling through the woodshop's windows.

The little wolf balled his hands into fists and shoved them in his pockets. "What happens now?"

"We take it into town. Come on. You'll have to put on those shoes I gave you."

Stiles might've grown used to wearing clothes, even if they itched and weighed him down, but the shoes were another matter altogether. How did humans walk around in those things without tripping? They didn't grip the ground like bare feet.

"Wait. You want me to come with you?"

Since he'd arrived, Derek had gone to town exactly twice, but he never took the little wolf along. He usually came back with something, like shoes or clothes that actually fit Stiles's smaller frame, but he never asked the young man to come with him.

"Yes. You've got to get used to the human world. Plus, I could use your help at the hardware store. We've got to pick up a few things."

Stiles swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore the prickling discomfort seeping up his spine. He'd avoided people for so long, how was he supposed to get used to being around them again? With Derek it was easy, the man was a wolf, like him. But normal humans weren't like that. They chased him with shotguns and set out traps to break his leg.

"Come along." Derek said, placing a large hand on Stiles's back and guiding him out of the workroom. "I'll pull the truck around and load it while you get those shoes on."

His skin sizzled under the man's touch, and he squeezed his eyes shut and glanced up. The wolf's gaze met his, and Derek pulled his hand back as if the little wolf were a snake ready to strike.

Standing up to an Alpha was never a good idea for an omega, but Derek said he wasn't an omega anymore.

"Why don't you want to touch me?"

The man's eyes narrowed, and he gritted his teeth. "I'm not going to discuss this right now. We have work to do."

He took a step toward the larger wolf, every muscle in his body quivering with a mixture of fear and desire. "I don't care. We worked all morning. We can talk for a few minutes. I want you to touch me. Can't you feel it? Smell it? Are your senses dull?"

"My senses are fine. Trust me."

Stiles's eyes flashed, and he did something he never thought he could. He leaned forward and pressed his body into Derek's. The man's heart thundered in his chest, the beat like the steady pounding of a great drum. Up close, his scent engulfed the little wolf, drowning him in it. Why didn't the man want him? Claim him? That's what most wolves did in this situation, unless Derek didn't like something about him. But what was it?

"Stiles." the other wolf growled, his mouth parted into the perfect position for a kiss.

The little wolf stood on his toes, and pressed his nose against Derek's strong neck, he silently begged the other wolf to wrap his huge arms around his shoulders. To hold him. Kiss him, anything!

"Dammit all to hell and back. What do you think you're doing?" the Alpha asked, though his voice held no anger.

"I want you."

Large hands gripped Stiles's shoulders. "You don't know what you want."

The little wolf scowled. "I do. I want you. You're my-"

Derek laid a finger over his lips, effectively cutting him off.

"We need to get going. Put those shoes on."

The urge to run through the woods, to leave this place and never come back crossed the little wolf's mind as he marched toward the house. But Derek was his mate, no matter how the man tried to deny it. Stiles felt it in his bones, as surely as he felt the pull of the full moon. No wolf could deny the truth for long, not even an Alpha.

Stiles grumbled as he pulled on the socks and tennis shoes, strangling his feet. He'd prove to Derek they were meant to be together, he'd just have to figure out how.

The big wolf waited in the truck when Stiles stepped out of the house.

"Seatbelt." the man said as Stiles slipped into the truck next to him.

Great. Something else to stifle him. He clicked it in place all the same.

They rumbled down the mountain in silence. Stiles stared out the window as the comforting shade of the forest faded to farmland, the fields greener than when he last saw them. Flowers sprouted along the side of the road in great, colorful bunches, and the little wolf wondered, briefly, if Derek liked such things. Humans gave each other flowers to show their love, didn't they?

The Alpha turned toward the town, and the trees stopped suddenly at the bottom of a long hill, the city spread out before them like a picnic. They rolled past colorful houses and little shops made of brick, and Stiles wiped his palms on his pants, and tried not to see every person standing on the side of the street as an enemy, something to hide from in the woods.

"They're not going to bite." Derek said peaceably as he pulled up to a red brick building.

"No. It could be the other way around." Stiles muttered, then clamped his mouth shut. The larger wolf might not like threats of that sort.

Derek frowned. "Let's hope you don't. This area is already overrun with our kind. Do you want to come in or are you going to sulk in here?"

"I'm not sulking!" Stiles spat and opened the car door and tried to climb out, but the stupid seatbelt held him in place. Once he untangled himself from it, he slipped out of the seat and leaned against the truck.

His leg still ached when he stood for too long, and he watched as Derek hauled the set of chairs and the table from the back of his truck. Another man came out to help, and Stiles crossed his arms, trying to stand up straight and not cower in front of the new human.

The man was wrinkled and looked about as old as Stiles's own gran before she passed. His name was David, and it seemed he bought a lot of Derek's furniture.

"This is Stiles. He's my apprentice." the larger wolf said.

Stiles held out his hand, and nodded stiffly as David grabbed it and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Getting to be too much work for one man, I see. We've got a few more orders that came in. I'll go get your check and the list."

The little wolf wrinkled his nose. This is why he avoided cities, the smell. Everything was dirty with car exhaust and cement and asphalt, not like the clean scent of dirt and trees and other animals. Even with all that filth around, Derek's rousing fragrance still overpowered everything.

David handed the other wolf a few pieces of paper when he came back, and they chatted about the weather for a moment before Derek deemed it time to go. Stiles huddled in the car next to him and slipped the seatbelt on, without being asked this time.

"Do you see this?" the man asked and handed Stiles a little rectangular piece of paper.

"Yeah. It's a check. My mom had them when I was little."

The bigger wolf's eyes softened. "Not that. The number, half of it is yours."

Stiles stared at the number sprawled on the check for a moment. "Half of nine hundred? That's four hundred and fifty dollars. What am I supposed to do with the money?" he asked.

A smile pulled at the corner of Derek's mouth, and Stiles's heart leapt into his throat. At least that made the big wolf happy. "You could buy some food and supplies with it, if you don't have any other plans."

"I never needed money." His old pack never even gave him an allowance, though his gran did on his birthday. The other wolves just took it before he could spend it. Why would a useless beta need it?

Derek studied him for a moment. "I get as much as I can from the forest too, but some things require money. It's your choice on what you want to do with it."

The little wolf nodded and stared at the check. "Fine. Supplies and food."

They headed back over the hills and to a different town than the one with the furniture store. Stiles opened his mouth to ask why they didn't go to a hardware store in that city, but closed it. Derek knew what he was doing.

This time, the other wolf urged him inside under the guise of helping. Stiles slunk in, tripping over his shoes as he glanced up and down the aisles of nails, bolts and other tools.

The man at the front greeted them, and Stiles fought the urge to hunch behind Derek for the second time that day. Wolves he could handle, humans were far more terrifying.

Stiles caught the odor as they piled supplies into their basket, a scent that didn't belong to his mate. Stiles glanced up and down the aisle, a growl rising in his throat.

Derek clamped a hand on the little wolf's shoulder just as three men turned the corner.

"Derek." the head Alpha spat and stepped in front of the other members of his pack.

"Deucalion. What do you want?" Derek stepped in front of Stiles, his large frame blocking the little wolf. Was Derek really trying to protect him? His stomach fluttered.

"We agreed not to bother you, but you're harboring a rogue who stirred up trouble throughout our valley."

Stiles peeked through Derek's powerful arms and glowered at the dark wolf. "I'm not a rogue!" he grumbled and bared his teeth.

The Alpha wolf raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, but he didn't take his eyes off Derek.

"He's under my care, and he's not stirring up any trouble, not now."

The other Alpha spoke up. "But he already caused a problem. Traps in our fields, black wolf. If that little outcast roused a hunter-"

"Then what? I seem to remember things going my way the last time we wrestled, Ennis." Derek said, his voice a low, resonant growl that sent a chill to the center of Stiles's chest.

The Alpha lunged toward Derek, but the third wolf gripped his shoulder, the knuckles on his hand whitening. "Enough!"

Much to Stiles's surprise, the Alpha relaxed under the other wolf's grip.

"Enjoying pack life, Tristan?" Derek asked, and his voice lost the air of anger it held with the other wolves.

Tristan frowned. "We probably shouldn't have a fight in the middle of the damn store."

Deucalion clenched his jaw. "If a hunter is here, that omega is to blame, and we will have our reckoning."

The two Alpha's turned and walked away. Tristan sighed, opened his mouth like he wanted to say something more, but followed his pack instead.

Stiles slipped back around the bigger wolf and frowned. For some reason, Derek's eyes softened just a bit when he looked at Tristan. The thought twisted Stiles's stomach into knots.

"That's the valley pack?" he grumbled as they finished gathering the things they needed.

"Yeah. Those are the Deucalions."

The little wolf's hair stood on end at the Alpha's words. Did his chicken thieving really draw out a hunter? More importantly, what would Derek do if it did? Turn him over and let him be killed?

To be continued …

* * *

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

After they got home, the little wolf helped with dinner, cutting the meat from the bone and chopping vegetables for their stew. Soon the scent of cooking filled the whole house, and Derek nodded down the hall.

"Wash up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

With a pout, the little wolf, once again, did as Derek asked.

As he stepped into the shower, the hot water soaked into his skin, and he washed the day's sweat and dirt from his flesh. Stiles's thoughts turned to the big wolf, the way his roughly calloused hands felt on Stiles's skin. Soon, his cock pounded between his thighs and his fingers itched to touch it, stroke it until the release washed over him and set him free. He'd pretend Derek was the one touching him, that his mate cared about him enough to pleasure him.

Slowly, the little wolf wrapped his fingers around the aching shaft and bit his lip. If the Alpha heard his moans, what would he do? Probably ignore it.

A gentle tap startled Stiles from his thoughts, and the door creaked open.

"You forgot a towel again." Derek said, his figure silhouetted against the clear shower curtain.

The little wolf's heart slammed in his chest as he turned off the water and slid the curtain aside. He was finished anyway, and the man had already seen him naked.

"Are you going to take one now?" he asked and looked up at the other wolf.

Derek's eyes traveled down Stiles's toned chest to the erection pounding between his thighs. The pink tip of the Alpha's tongue flicked out, like he tasted the air, and he took a deep breath.

"Stiles." Derek whispered, his voice held the subtlest of warnings.

The little wolf didn't heed it. He stepped out of the tub and stood dripping on the bathroom rug.

"I can scrub your back, just like you did for me." he offered and his hands sparked with something akin to static electricity. Why wouldn't Derek touch him?

The Alpha let out a long, slow breath, but he didn't charge out of the room, didn't run away like he had before.

Stiles heart thundered. His whole body surged with anticipation as he took another step closer to his mate. The man's clothes brushed his bare flesh, and the little wolf picked up Derek's strong, calloused palm and kissed it.

"Please." he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

The black wolf's eyes flashed, and he balled his hands into fists.

"This isn't going to happen, Stiles. It can't."

The man's musk urged the little wolf forward, even if his words didn't. Stiles nuzzled against Derek's shoulder, his hesitant fingers roaming down the big wolf's arms and chest, toward the weapon hidden in his pants.

Grumbling, Derek pressed Stiles into the wall. The impact knocked the air from the smaller wolf's lungs. His touch burned as it traversed the length of Stiles's chest. His fingers tweaked a nipple until the little wolf moaned.

"Is this what you want, cub?" the larger wolf growled, his voice no longer gentle or forgiving.

For the first time, Stiles wasn't sure how to answer. Did this mean his mate would finally admit the truth, but why did it make him angry?

All the thoughts fled from the smaller wolf's mind as Derek's large hand cupped the little wolf's erection.

"You want me to pleasure you like this?" the Alpha breathed, his lips inches from Stiles's own. Every stroke, all friction and heat, set the nerves in the smaller wolf's body ablaze.

The man's blunt thumb grazed the tip, and Stiles reached for Derek's thickly muscled shoulders for support, but the larger wolf grabbed his hands and pinned them above the little wolf's head.

"You want me to touch you. Make your body sing for more. Is that it?"

Stiles writhed. The wall cooled his feverish flesh, and his hips bucked in time with every stroke, every caress. "Yes." he gasped.

Derek's eyes narrowed, his jaw tensing. "You want me to give in to this?" His lips brushed Stiles's neck. "Your alluring scent?"

Teeth dug into his tender flesh, and the little wolf whimpered under the onslaught. The hand that pleasured him never slowed, it kept a steady, aching pace. Stiles twitched and moaned, his mind and body too lost in the moment to do much else.

"Please." he begged again, his voice a pale imitation of his usual self.

"Please, what? Let you come? Or do you want me to bend you over the sink, cub? Do you want me to claim you right here and now so no other wolf can touch you without my say? Do you want my cock buried in your tight little ass?"

He punctuated every sentence with another stroke, another circular rub of his thumb over Stiles's sensitive head.

The world blurred as the pleasure washed over the little wolf. He groaned, wriggling his wrists and his hips as his load spilt onto the bathroom floor.

"Yes." he groaned, his legs wobbling and his heart slamming in his chest. "Please. We're mates."

Derek's fingers loosened their hold on both the slack erection and on Stiles's wrists. For a moment the two men stared at each other, and the little wolf leaned into the man's strong hold, the drops of sweat soaking through Derek's shirt.

"No. We're not."

* * *

He was an idiot. His palm still held the ghost of Stiles's erection, he balled his hand into a fist and turned over in bed. What had he done? The little wolf hardly ate his dinner, only finishing one bowl of venison stew when he usually ate three. After just over a month of eating properly and working in the shop, Stiles filled out. He was no longer a scrawny runt, but a young man with sculpted arms and a slick, muscled chest.

Gritting his teeth, Derek frowned at the ceiling. Giving in to the moment was his biggest mistake, but what the hell else was he supposed to do with a creature like Stiles, naked and perfect, begging to be touched?

We're mates.

He'd said it twice now, and every time it felt like a knife twisting in Derek's gut. He didn't want a mate, didn't need one.

Resisting the pull of the cub was like fighting back the tide. Derek wasn't some kind of saint. He was reminded of his time with Tristan, however fleeting. But that was different. It meant as much as a one-night stand would to a human. Something that his body begged him to do.

Stiles, a confounding mixture of innocence, stubbornness and a world wary attitude, yanked at his chest in a completely different way.

The little wolf's scent lingered over everything in the house, even in Derek's own bedroom. The sound of the cub's unsettled sleep filled the black wolf's ears, every whimper and cry in the darkness. Every rustle of cloth against Stiles's bare flesh. It was hard enough to get the smaller wolf to wear clothes during the day, and downright impossible to get him to wear them at night. Derek couldn't blame him, not when he slept nude as well.

Slowly, he ran his hand over his face and tried to shake the sound of Stiles's hitched breath from his thoughts. The little wolf's face, delight and perfect surrender combined into the most beautiful expression the man had ever seen. Stiles's brown eyes, framed in long, dark lashes, fluttered with every stroke. His lips, pink with lust, begged to be kissed.

And it's not as if Derek met many men and women in his woodshop or around their small, conservative city. But another lover, another betrayal, wasn't something the black wolf needed. The calmness of the wood gave him everything.

Everything but a mate.

No! Wolf tradition be damned.

Derek never wanted this life, and he didn't have to give in to the instincts of his animal side. Still, the larger wolf couldn't deny the throbbing ache in his groin, even hours after he'd pleasured Stiles.

He grabbed his shaft, pounding and begging for release, just as the little wolf's had been, and caressed its length. Every glide of his fisted palm brought thoughts of Stiles to his mind, the young man's hand or mouth wrapped around him just so. Tongue and teeth tasting every inch of him. Or better yet, Stiles's perfectly taut ass just begging to be claimed.

Derek let out a huff of breath, his heart hammering in his chest, and fought to push the thoughts from his mind. He rubbed the pre-come over his fingers to wet the length, caressing his cock faster. Release was all he needed, not a fantasy that he wouldn't fulfill. Couldn't fulfill.

But his mind didn't obey. He almost tasted Stiles's lips, felt the smaller wolf's hot flesh against his own, smelled the rich musk that caught his whole body on fire whenever they were near.

His hips bucked, and he let out a low, guttural moan as he reached the peak. His load spilled over his hands, and his chest heaved as he frowned at the mess he'd made in his own bed. No better than a damn whelp.

Derek couldn't give in to his desires again.

Couldn't use the little wolf like that.

Couldn't hurt Stiles the way he'd been hurt.

Sometimes wolves mated for life and sometimes a mate was nothing more than a promise never kept.

To be continued …

* * *

Next chapter will include a visit from Tristan.

Please share your thoughts and/or read one of my other stories.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Stiles was still asleep when Derek woke the next morning. A cloud of fog rested over the mountain, leaving everything dim and gray in the surrounding mist. Perfect weather for hunting, the black wolf thought, and leaned against the side of the porch with a cup of steaming coffee in his hands.

The floorboards creaked behind him, and Derek sighed. Hopefully, the cub would eat his breakfast and wouldn't bring up anything about them being mates. But Derek doubted he was so lucky.

The door squeaked open, and the Alpha turned to the young man.

"It's a good morning for hunting." Stiles murmured, his eyes squinted into the fog.

Derek nodded, and let out a slow breath. At least he hadn't brought up the bathroom incident. "You up for it?"

The cub turned a wide-eyed gaze toward him, his mouth dropped open. "Together? You want me to hunt with you?"

The black wolf drained his coffee. He tried his hardest to ignore the knot twisting in his gut at Stiles's surprise and the plea hidden in his eyes. "Why not? As long as your leg feels okay, I could use the help."

"I thought you were big enough to hunt on your own?"

His lips twitched at the reminder, and he realized the cub had never seen his wolf form. "I am, but an extra set of teeth is always useful. What did you usually hunt?"

Stiles's cheeks flushed, but he set his lips into a decided line. "Small game. Rabbits, quail and pheasants. Marmots and raccoons sometimes. And I can fish."

Derek nodded. Stiles was closer in size to a small gray wolf than the hulking beast Derek transformed into. "Did you ever hunt in a group?"

"What do you think?" the little wolf sneered, and balled his hands into tight fists.

"No. Well, I guess you'll have to learn." he said and set down his empty mug.

Stiles scowled, but said nothing else as Derek shed his robe and slippers. The young man's eyes trailed over his body like a starving man looking at a banquet, lingering on the scar on the larger wolf's calf.

"How did you get that scar as a born wolf?"

Derek fought the urge to touch it, to run his fingers over the reminder of his weakness. "A present from Deucalion."

Stiles bit his bottom lip, like he wanted to say more, and the black wolf fought every urge in his bones to do anything other than shift. But his body bent forward, the sudden pain of the change charging through his nerves like lightning. When he turned his great black snout at Stiles, the young man stared, mouth hanging open, eyes as wide as the full moon herself.

"You truly are an alpha." he whispered.

Derek hackles prickled at the accusation, but he couldn't say a damn thing to refute it in his wolf shape. Instead, he stood and waited while Stiles shifted as well. The little wolf stepped next to him, his slick brown fur picking up hints of red and black, even in the gray morning light. If the cub ran, would he be able to resist the chase?

Yes. He had to.

Without a word, Derek turned his back to Stiles and stalked into the woods, heading over the stream and up the mountain. Brown pine needles crackled under their feet, and emerald green ferns brushed their fur. Derek set a careful pace, sniffing for metal traps and signs of deer along the forest floor. Above them, the ash, birch and maple thinned to fir, pine and cedar, standing like ancient sentries, their branches still in the mist. The only sound to break the silence was the gentle pad of their feet and the periodic rustle of a bird or squirrel.

Derek caught the scent of the deer in a clearing. They sneaked behind a large boulder downwind for a better look. The elegant creatures huddled together, chewing on the fresh growth that littered the forest floor. Several deer stood near their fawns, and the black wolf discounted them immediately. The meat was softer, but he wasn't going to kill a mother or her child, that much was certain.

As quiet as a mouse, Stiles hunched next to him, his brown eyes aglow in the flat light of the misty forest, and his black nose twitched as he sniffed the air. His whole body vibrated with excitement, not an ounce of hesitation to be seen in any of the smaller wolf's slick muscles.

This is home to him, Derek thought. This wolf form is what he's used to, not the human face the black wolf made Stiles put on at home. But he wasn't just a wolf, he was a werewolf and he belonged to both worlds, even if he forgot that over the years.

Derek sniffed the air and caught sight of the doe he wanted, an older animal with no young and a weak flank. If he didn't take her down now, a cougar or another wolf would soon enough. She lingered near the edge of the trees, the perfect place to snatch her before another deer spotted them.

Slowly, the black wolf crept toward his prey, and Stiles fell in step behind him. Hopefully, the little wolf kept a distance from her kicking legs. A deer in the throes of death could land a painful strike if so provoked, and he couldn't warn Stiles about it now.

Derek cast the smaller wolf one last glance, and hunched his hind legs when they were close enough to the deer. With one great leap, he jumped from the safety of the trees and the animals scattered like a great wind blowing about dry leaves.

Good. That's what he counted on.

The doe with the weak leg tried to keep up, but she couldn't due to her injury. Derek skidded around her and cut her off, baring his fangs right before he lunged for the kill. His teeth sunk into her neck, piercing the great vein there, and she kicked once before her body fell, limp and lifeless in his jaws.

Stiles padded up next to him, his ears perked, and he sniffed the air hungrily.

Derek let the animal fall out of his grasp and turned back into his human form, wiping the hot blood from his lips. It dripped over his chest and thighs, but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about that until he got home.

Stiles shifted as well. "You didn't need my help." he said, his eyes lingering on the flaccid length between Derek's powerful legs.

"I could use your help carrying her home. She's heavier than she looks."

The young man's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. For a split second, the black wolf worried the cub would say something else about their destiny to be together, but he turned his nose to the air instead and frowned. "Do you smell that?"

The Alpha caught a hint of it over the other scents in the forest. Blood. And not the blood of the deer he'd just killed. It came from the left, and Stiles walked ahead of him. Derek tried to look elsewhere, but the little wolf's perfectly tight ass and wiry thighs commanded attention.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He was supposed to abstain from giving in to the urge, but seeing Stiles naked made the promise that much harder to keep.

Then the little wolf gasped, and Derek rushed to his side. The young man stumbled back into his bloody chest, raising a hand to his nose, and the black wolf peeked over his head at the sight below.

An edge of boulders gave way to a small ravine, about ten or fifteen feet deep, and at the bottom lay a slaughtered deer. Her glassy, lifeless eye stared at them, though she hadn't been killed by anything natural, such as a misstep or a fall. No. A thick metal bolt stuck out of her chest, blood pooled around it like a fountain in the winter.

Derek glared. No normal hunter would kill a deer and leave its body to rot in the woods. This was a warning, a very special warning designed for were-creatures who could read it. That was the only thing that explained the remoteness of the kill. Plus, only a very special type of hunter used a crossbow to kill its prey.

Now they knew for certain who set the traps, a wolf hunter.

* * *

Stiles stared at the dead deer. The body was already stiff, meaning it was killed at least an hour or so before they got there. A few ants crawled over the hide, and his empty stomach twisted into knots. He'd seen death in the forest before, but never like this. Never so senseless and wasteful.

"My gran told me about hunters." he said, and Derek gripped the little wolf's shoulders, his fingers pinching down to the bone.

"What did she say?" the other wolf asked blandly.

"That they kill wolves. They hunt them down just like prey."

He scanned the trees with his keen brown eyes, like the hunter still waited for them somewhere close by.

Derek sighed. "So they do. Come on. Let's get her home and make breakfast."

Stiles turned his chin up and twisted his neck to look at the taller man. No good. He stepped forward and turned instead. His back felt hot and sticky with the same blood that coated Derek.

"That's it? Don't we have to do something?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "What do you suggest? They left that deer here to warn the surrounding were-creatures. And, probably, to rile us up too."

"So we just go back to the cabin? What if they find me?"

He was just trying to survive after a long, hard winter and now he'd put his very own mate in danger, the same man who saved him from a trap. The same man who pushed him aside as if they didn't belong together. But he still let Stiles stay, why?

Derek's brow furrowed. "Look. There isn't a damn thing we can do by sitting around and talking about this right now. We've got a kill to skin and prepare, unless you want the meat to spoil."

He scowled at the black wolf. "Fine."

The man narrowed his eyes, and let out a heavy breath through his nose, but he said nothing more.

Together, they carried the kill through the woods, and the cool morning air dried the sweat on their skin. Stiles wondered what human hikers would think if they spotted two naked men dragging a deer through the forest, but Derek didn't seem to have any qualms about it.

They'd be able to smell the humans before they saw them, in most cases.

When they got back to the cabin, Stiles couldn't help glancing over his shoulder, as if someone watched him. His skin prickled as they took the deer into the lean-to and got to work. Derek was deft with a blade, and he'd taught the little wolf how to save as much meat as possible with quick, sharp swipes that sheared the flesh from both skin and bone. Like usual, they worked in silence, the smell of blood so strong it almost blocked out Derek's alluring scent.

Almost but not quite.

When they finished, he helped the black wolf carry half the meat to the smoke hut and hang it up. The fragrance of finely cooked flesh tickled his nose, whetting his appetite. He'd never gone long without food here, a huge difference between living in the woods and fending for himself.

The rest of the venison went into the huge freezer, and Derek stretched the skin out to dry. He used as much of each kill as possible. Then they stepped back into the lean-to, and Derek pumped warm water into a basin and scrubbed the dried blood from his flesh. The little wolf stared, his heart aching as the man's powerful hands slipped over his skin, the same hands that held Stiles the night before.

Of course the man said nothing about their time in the bathroom or his refusal to admit they were mates. But he hadn't kicked Stiles out either, even after he knew for certain a hunter was about.

Swallowing the ever-present lump in his throat, the smaller wolf stepped forward and picked up the soap. He scrubbed his arms and hands, though his fingers itched to touch Derek. But if he did, the other wolf would only push him aside.

It was just like back in his old pack. Everyone discounted him as unworthy, and he'd proven them all wrong. Now he had to prove to his own mate that he was worthy of being there, worthy of belonging with the black wolf.

"Your back." the man rumbled, and Stiles widened his eyes.

"What?"

"You have dried blood on your back. Turn around." His voice was husky, gruffer than usual, and it sent a surge of excitement through every nerve in Stiles's body.

Slowly, he turned around and felt the first slick swish of warm water and soap against his flesh. Blunt fingers and a large, square palm, scrubbed his back, hotter than the water. The touch was enough, as it usually was, to excite Stiles's senses. He closed his eyes and chewed his bottom lip, imagining those hands winding around the front of him, taking in his whole body in slow, gentle strokes.

Then a splash of water slipped down his skin, and another and another.

"There." Derek breathed, his words tickling Stiles's ear.

Didn't he notice the painful ache between the little wolf's legs? His cock stood at full attention, pressed into his lower stomach and begging for release.

"Claim me." Stiles begged, leaning back into his mate's powerful arms.

The man's slick hands grasped his shoulders, his breath blowing through the smaller wolf's hair.

"What did I say last night?"

Stiles scowled, though he wasn't about to move out of Derek's hold. "Why not?" he mumbled. The other wolf never said. He simply stepped out of the room and waited for Stiles to join him for dinner. "I know you feel it just like I do. Is there something wrong with me?"

The fingers on his shoulders tightened their hold. "No. Yes, you're young. A cub and I'm an Alpha, remember? We don't have to follow the same traditions as you. We are not slaves to our desires. We have more control."

Stiles gritted his teeth. "You don't have a choice! You have to claim your mate, that's the way it is."

"Oh, is it now? I don't have to do anything I don't want to do."

Stiles wiggled out of his grip, glaring. "You don't want me?" It felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach.

Derek closed his green eyes, and the little lines around them stood out more than usual. Looking down, the smaller man noticed the arousal nestled in a garden of black curls, similar to the hair on the black wolf's chest.

Stiles's fingers itched to grab it and stroke the head, like the man had done to him the day before. But he was just an omega and Derek the Alpha, even if the man claimed it wasn't the case.

The little wolf's eyes stung, his heart felt like someone pricked it with a bolt, just like the dead deer in the woods. He leaned his head in the crook of the taller man's neck, where it fit perfectly as if it were meant to be there always, and took a deep breath.

Derek grumbled something incomprehensible, but he didn't pull away. "Stiles, I already said I can't give you what you want."

His voice rumbled through his chest, and the smaller wolf pressed his lips against the bulge of muscle on the man's shoulder. Derek's breath caught in his throat at the touch, and Stiles felt the shiver traverse through his entire body. The man liked it, even if he denied it, he liked it.

"Stiles." he growled, but the little wolf didn't stop. Carefully, he stood on his toes and kissed the man's sharp jaw.

Strong hands grasped onto Stiles's slender hips, digging into the flesh and bone like they'd never let go.

"What's wrong with this?" he asked, his body pressed flush against his mate. If only the man would do what he was supposed to do, claim him like he should.

The black wolf's eyes narrowed, a cloud of lust slipping over them before it cleared. Then he grumbled as his fingers glided over the smaller man's stomach, the strong palm grasping Stiles's need once again.

"Everything." Derek growled, shoving the little wolf against the lean-to's wooden wall.

Stiles yelped at the impact, his heart slamming in his chest. At least his mate agreed to touch him again, though Derek's eyes burned with the same startling rage as the night before. The smooth wooden wall was slick with condensation and his back slipped against it.

He grasped Derek's powerful shoulders, and the man flinched under the touch as if someone struck him. Then his muscular thighs slipped between Stiles's own, forcing them open.

Derek's lips hovered inches from his own, the man's labored breath blowing across his mouth, almost touching his lips. Stiles shifted his hips, and Derek's hand slid over the little wolf's shaft slowly, as he reached for his own hardness.

Then tires crunched over the gravel driveway. A car rumbled to a stop, the engine clicking off as the door squeaked open.

The little wolf's heart slammed in his chest, his whole body burning for this moment, only to be interrupted. Stiles had been with him for over a month now and no one ever visited Derek before.

"Fuck." the black wolf muttered, and his hands slipped from Stiles's cock.

The smaller wolf's chest heaved. "Who the hell is it?" he demanded.

Derek didn't answer right away. He splashed cold water on his face and took a deep breath as his erection subsided. Stiles's own was still painfully hard.

"You might want to take care of that before you come out and join us."

"Who's us?" Stiles asked, his own arousal dying with the moment.

Whoever interrupted them was going to pay! His mate was about to kiss him, claim him, and then this happened!

The larger wolf slipped out of the lean-to and into the back door, avoiding the front of the house entirely. Stiles didn't have such reservations. Sneaking around the other side of the cabin, he glowered through the bushes at the beat-up blue car and sniffed the air.

Another wolf. One from that Deucalion pack.

Then he spotted the young man stepping toward the cabin. He was the same wolf from the day before, the one who stopped the other Alpha from attacking Derek.

He stood at the foot of the porch and squinted into the bushes were Stiles huddled. The morning mist had all but burned away, and a shimmer of sunlight fell through the trees, like yellow silk, and across the man's eyes. He looked about Stiles's height, and his face was smooth and handsome in a very unremarkable way.

"I can smell you." he said, his voice edged with uncertainty.

Stiles glared through the leaves and stood up straight.

The new wolf raised an eyebrow. "Oh. You're that omega. Is Derek home?"

Stiles bristled. How dare this new wolf ask about his mate so casually. The little wolf certainly didn't have to answer any questions if he didn't want to. Plus, this stranger waltzed right into Derek's territory, his new home. The black wolf didn't invite him.

Stiles shifted, his body easily bending and cracking, and leapt at the intruder, this was his territory and his mate, he'd protect it anyway he had to.

To be continued …


	8. Chapter 8

! Important Message !

1. I apologize for the late update but last week was also the release date of yet another Sims 3 expansion pack and I have spend all my free time gaming.

2. I may have referred to Derek as Caleb in chapter 7. I have no Beta reader and edited that chapter when I should have been sleeping, hence the many mistakes.

3. I finally made a book cover for this story. The amazing Sterek art is from the very talented Romax at Deviantart.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 8

"Stiles! Enough!" Derek boomed from the doorway, draped in a pair of jeans and white shirt.

Tristan stumbled back a few steps, though he didn't shift to meet the attack. "What the hell is going on?"

Stiles skidded to a stop, gravel flying through the air, then whimpered and lowered himself to the ground, pressing his chin flat to the dirt. Why would his mate stop him? Unless . . .

The big wolf creaked down the porch stairs. "Are you going to shift back into a human?"

Tristan glanced between them, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Stiles growled, but let his body slip back into his human shape as he stood.

"Now get your ass inside so we can have breakfast." Derek said, though his voice dripped with patience.

Stiles stared at Tristan, and Tristan stared right back. Then the new wolf turned and walked toward the stairs. "Breakfast sounds good."

Stiles followed them both into the cabin, his eyes on the intruder the whole time. Tristan hesitated at the door, glancing around like he expected something to jump out and pounce on him.

Derek turned his eyes to the little wolf. "Stiles, will you please put some pants on?"

No. He did not want to put pants on. But he marched into his room and slipped them over his nakedness all the same. The little wolf heard Tristan say something about seeing enough naked men on a daily basis that nothing could surprise him anymore.

When Stiles stepped back into the kitchen, lingering by the door, Derek turned up the heat under the skillet and pulled the bacon and sausage from the fridge, along with a dozen fresh eggs.

"So?" he asked and glanced at Tristan.

"You're the one who has some explaining to do." Tristan's eyes trailed over Stiles, and the little wolf glowered at him.

This was his home now. That new wolf had no right to look at him like that.

"I'm not sure I do. It's none of your business what I do in my territory. Stiles, can you help me with this?"

At least Derek wasn't rolling over for the rival wolf, Stiles thought and cracked some eggs in a big mixing bowl.

Tristan rolled his eyes. "You know that's not why I'm here. I want to know what's going on."

The bacon sizzled as it hit the hot pan, and Derek turned around to face the new wolf, his arms crossed over his massive chest.

"You're giving me the benefit of the doubt?"

Tristan shrugged. "Yeah, so the least you can do is give me your side of things. And maybe offer me something to drink."

The larger wolf actually laughed at that, his eyes crinkling.

Tristan smiled.

Stiles looked back and forth from his mate to the new wolf. What the hell was going on? How did they know each other?

"Why is he here?" the little wolf hissed as he tossed the shells into the compost bin.

Derek sighed, and slid the sausage onto the pan before he took the bowl of eggs from the counter.

"I could ask you the same thing." Tristan said in an even voice.

The little wolf's cheeks flushed, and he balled his hands into fists. His hold over this place was tentative, he couldn't deny that. If Derek kicked him out, he'd have no recourse to stay. The man might be his mate, but if he didn't claim Stiles their connection meant nothing. However, he had more of a claim than a wolf from a rival pack.

"He's my apprentice." Derek said.

The omega glowered at the new wolf, and Tristan nodded, though he furrowed his brow. "That's it? Someone raided henhouses all over the valley. Was it you?"

Stiles flinched as the eggs crackled in the pan. "What if it was?"

Tristan nodded. "Why?"

"Maybe I was hungry." he growled.

The new wolf's eyes widened, and he glanced at Derek as if the big man had something more to add. The black wolf scrambled the eggs like he didn't hear a word they said, though he obviously did, his ears were too keen not to.

"Why didn't you hunt?"

"I hunted the chickens. If those farmers didn't want them eaten, why put them in cages so they're easy to catch?" the little wolf spat, though he knew the answer. It was also easier for the farmers to catch them, and easier to collect their eggs, when the hens were caged.

Tristan gaped at him, and threw another glance at Derek.

The black wolf simply piled three plates with the breakfast food, the fragrance of eggs and cooked meat filling the room, and set them at the table. Then he poured three cups of coffee, one for each of them.

For the second meal in a row, Stiles's appetite eluded him.

Derek took a large bite of eggs before he spoke. "You heard him, he was hungry and caught a few chickens. He's here now, and he's not going to bother those valley farmers anymore, if that's what you're worried about."

Tristan frowned into his cup. "I'm not the one who's worried, but when a new wolf shows up out of nowhere the Deucalions get . . . defensive."

Stiles shoved a whole sausage into his mouth and chewed. He was the new wolf, and he made a whole pack nervous or the threat of a hunter did.

Derek stared at Tristan peaceably, without saying a word, and the mid-ranked wolf sighed. "Fine. I get it. You don't want to tell me because I'm part of their pack now. I'm not here to spy on you."

A piece of bacon crunched between Derek's powerful jaws. "You're not going to tell your mate all about this visit? I won't have him messing in my territory?"

"Like you messed in his?"

Stiles heart slammed in his chest, and he shoveled the eggs into his mouth. Not out of hunger per se, but he didn't want to waste it. Plus he needed to do something with his hands.

"Touché."

Tristan shifted the cup between his palms and sighed. "Look. You owe me, especially if this affects my pack. Anyone could get hurt in those traps, not just wolves. Someone's dog or cat, hell, even a kid. Whoever is laying them needs to be stopped."

"I'm not doing it." the black wolf said, his eyes narrowed.

Tristan huffed. "I know! But first you get an . . . apprentice, then this shit starts happening?"

"It's not his fault." Derek growled, and his fork clinked on the side of his plate.

The new wolf stared at him, eyes wide. Then he glanced at Stiles, who glared though his heart thundered in his chest. His mate was defending him, yet again. Why defend him if he didn't want to claim him?

"I wasn't going to blame him, but it's not a coincidence either. If we have a wolf hunter in our midst that's not a good thing."

The black wolf leaned forward. "And if we do, I'll take care of it. Your pack has no right attacking anyone under my protection."

Tristan's cheeks flushed. "Really? Does hypocrisy ever bother you?"

Derek leaned back, his face draining of all color, and he crunched on another slice of bacon.

"Well, you know where I'll be if you want to tell me what's going on." Tristan muttered and stood up, his coffee and breakfast untouched. "Remember that a hunter could kill any of us, the Deucalions included. I know you don't like them, but I do."

Stiles's stomach twisted. Why didn't Derek tell him they knew a hunter was out there? Why keep it a secret, unless those Deucalion wolves really would come for him.

"There is a hunter." Stiles said, the words little more than a whisper.

The black wolf snorted, and Tristan stopped in the doorway, his eyes settling on the little wolf.

"Thanks. That's all I wanted to know. And, for the record, I think this arrangement is a good thing, Derek. Being alone isn't everything it's cracked up to be."

He left without another word, and Stiles stared at his half-eaten plate of breakfast as the car rumbled to life and crunched back toward the road.

Finally, Derek spoke. "Why did you tell him?"

The smaller wolf's eyes stung, this was the part when he got yelled at, when Derek told him how stupid and useless he was. "Because you didn't. He has a pack to protect, and it's my fault the hunter is here. If his mate dies, that'd be my fault too."

Even if he hated that other wolf and the way he looked at Derek, like they both kept the same secret, he didn't want to be responsible for someone's death. Not like that.

A big hand engulfed his, squeezing it gently. "It's not your fault."

Somehow, Stiles didn't believe him.

* * *

Tristan's words lingered in Derek's mind all day. Hypocrite. The damn wolf was right, and Derek couldn't say a thing to deny it. He'd hunted down Tristan, ever since the boy came of age, with the intent to change him into a werewolf before Deucalion could claim him.

It made sense at the time, protect an innocent human from becoming the mate of a ruthless Alpha. But Tristan didn't see it that way. Not at all. He thought Derek kidnapped him out of spite for the Deucalion pack. Or worse, that the big wolf wanted Tristan as his own mate.

Not a chance in hell.

Derek had never wanted a mate.

* * *

Stiles slumped in the corner of the workroom, bent over a table with the chisel in his hand. His slender fingers and keen eye made carving the intricate designs easy, at least easier than it was for the larger wolf. He still made mistakes, but he'd improved by leaps and bounds since he'd first started.

The black wolf didn't want a mate, yet here the cub sat.

Derek sighed. The smaller wolf's bare chest shimmered with sweat in the warmth of the day. Birds chirped outside, their song the only sound besides the blade slipping against the wood. Stiles hadn't managed to brush his hair yet, so it still stood on end, his look rough and dark.

A breeze picked up the little wolf's musk and blew it around the room, and Derek frowned. The telltale sensation prickled his senses, the ache in his groin and the tug on his heart, but he didn't have to give in. If he didn't claim Stiles, the cub wasn't really his mate, that's what made it official.

All he had to do was not have sex with Stiles, easier said than done.

He didn't even want to think what he might've done if Tristan hadn't interrupted them at the perfect moment. The little wolf's lips, swollen with lust and waiting, his rock hard cock begging for the release only Derek could give.

The black wolf knew the feeling, the intensity of desire that flowed through his veins. He felt it too, but that didn't make it right. Didn't make it okay to give in.

Stiles might think he wanted Derek now, but after he gained a few more years of experience, there was no guarantee he'd continue to feel the same. Being mates meant they'd be tied together for the rest of their lives. A curse of their instincts.

"You need to put the legs on." Stiles said, and shook him from his thoughts.

Derek glanced at him and nodded. "I know. I was just thinking about something."

The little wolf set his lips into a decided frown. "About him?"

"Him?"

"That stupid mid-ranked wolf. Tristan." he growled.

The larger wolf nodded. He'd been waiting for the question all day, sure Stiles would ask as soon as Tristan left. Instead, the little wolf seemed too preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"No, I wasn't thinking about him."

Stiles lowered his eyes and twisted the chisel in his slender fingers. "How do you know him?"

"He's a local wolf, I know all of them."

Derek had no reason to lie, but something kept him from telling the truth all the same. Would the little wolf still respect him if he knew what Derek had done to Tristan? Not to mention how jealous it might make Stiles, no matter how little the black wolf's fleeting relationship with Tristan meant in the long run.

"You don't talk to him like you talk to the others." Stiles muttered.

Derek leaned against the worktable. "And how do I talk to Tristan?"

The little wolf shrugged. "Like you know him. Like you're friends or more."

Like I'm sorry? Derek wondered, but he didn't voice that to Stiles. The cub would never understand.

Instead, he sighed. "Not friends. We have a unique understanding. He came to me for help adjusting to life as a wolf."

Never mind Derek was the one who turned Tristan into a werewolf in the first place. That little detail wasn't important at the moment.

Stiles nodded, chewing his bottom lip. "You like him, don't you?"

The black wolf raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

"You didn't threaten him. You threatened his pack, but you let him come in and gave him coffee and breakfast. And he's a rival wolf!"

"A rival to who? He doesn't think I'm his mate."

The little wolf balled his hands into fists, his knuckles blanching. "I don't think it, I know it. You do too!"

Derek let out a slow breath between his teeth. Stiles's green eyes shone in the afternoon light, his lips pursed into a plea.

"If I don't claim you, we aren't mates."

The little wolf stood up so fast he knocked the workbench over. "Then claim me! Do it right here! You were going to this morning!"

The words set fire to Derek's skin, his body aching for the chance to give in to the desire, the allure of the other wolf. And maybe Stiles was right. Who knows what might've happened if Tristan didn't show up right then. The little wolf was naked and willing and the beast inside took over at moments like that.

But he was a man, not an animal.

"I'm not going to claim you, cub. Not now. Not ever." The words made his mouth feel like sawdust.

Stiles's face crumpled, though he kept his eyes wide. "Why? What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not weak!"

"I never said you were weak, but I did say you were young. Believe me, this feeling isn't going to last."

"So you had another mate? One before me? Is that how you know?" he asked, his voice cracking on the last word.

Sometimes being a wolf was much more difficult than being human. "I don't buy the idea of a mate for life, no matter what I feel. Feelings change. That's life. I'm doing you a favor, cub. Trust me."

The little wolf's eyes flashed. "I'll prove you wrong. This won't change. Why save me? If you don't want to claim me. Why let me stay?"

The black wolf gritted his teeth. Why did he have to ask all the questions Derek asked himself? The truth was, shoving the little wolf back into the woods felt wrong, it always had. "That has nothing to do with whether or not I claim you. I'd protect any wolf from a hunter."

Stiles sneered. "You didn't even tell Tristan there was a hunter around!"

The man snorted and frowned. Even if he'd lived alone for five years, the little wolf had a good eye for bullshit.

Being alone isn't everything it's cracked up to be. Well, it was a hell of a lot less stressful than this!

"Fine. I lied to protect you from his pack. Would I save them from the hunter? Yes, but that's because I do like Tristan, he's a good boy. But he's just like you, a kid. The only thing that will change that is age. Are you going to stick around for five years? You know how old I'll be by then?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't care."

Maybe he didn't. Youth had a way of dismissing things that seemed important when you were older. "Fine. I guess we'll both have to see."

The little wolf stalked up to him, his golden skin slick. His musk filled Derek's nose with its heady aroma, and the man set his jaw.

Stiles's eyes burned with determination. "I proved everyone else wrong. I'll prove you wrong too."

The black wolf turned back to his work. If Stiles stuck around much longer, he might be right. But Derek couldn't throw the little wolf out to the hunter, who he also had to stop.

Either claim the cub or let him die?

What kind of choice was that?

To be continued …


	9. Chapter 9

I just posted a new story ( The Wolf Pack & Fairy Clan War ). Let me know what you think.

* * *

Chapter 9

Stiles crouched on the porch, staring at the surrounding woods as they chirped and rustled with the signs of spring. He'd been here long enough that each day was warmer than the last, unless it rained, which it frequently did. Summer would be upon them soon, complete with long hot days and cricket filled nights. But that also meant campers would transcend from the city and make temporary homes in the woods.

And they'd be in danger of the hunter's traps too, just like Tristan said.

If Stiles wanted to prove himself to Derek, he needed to fix the problem he helped create. No matter what the other wolf said, it was his fault the hunter descended on that mountain and valley. If he hadn't been so weak and stupid, if he survived without the chickens, no one would've known of his presence.

But he also wouldn't have met Derek.

His heart twisted at the thought. Well, it was still his mess, and he had to clean it up. He'd show the black wolf he wasn't a useless cub, he was a man, and a wolf worthy of being Derek's mate.

The man's scent caught his attention as Derek stepped onto the porch behind him, his feet creaking across the wooden boards. "I thought I asked you to wear clothes around the property."

Stiles scowled at the taller man, and stood up straight. Even if Derek tried to deny it, the black wolf's eyes traveled down Stiles's toned body and lingered on his length, surrounded by dark curls. "I was going for a run." the little wolf said.

Derek narrowed his eyes into slits. "No. Not with the hunter out there. If you get caught again …"

"It's my fault he's here!"

The man ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh between his white teeth. "And what do you plan to do about it all on your own, cub? Have you ever even seen a hunter?"

The little wolf's cheeks flushed, and he crossed his arms. "I was going to find the traps and do something with them. It's not like you've met a hunter before."

His eyes clouded over at the words, and Stiles instantly regretted saying anything. "Actually, I have. I got away, but I'm not willing to bet I can do it again. And I'm not willing to let my apprentice get killed by one either. Got it?"

The words stabbed Stiles right in the heart. Why did Derek have to feign interest only to push the little wolf away later? It was worse than if the black wolf made up his mind one way or the other.

"It's not your job to protect me. I'm not your mate, remember?" Stiles spat.

Derek's jaw tensed. "The hunter I met took down a very powerful wolf, a wolf who killed two of his own kind right before my eyes. He was no stranger to bloodshed, yet the hunter managed to kill him easily. You don't understand what you're up against."

He stared at the bigger wolf. This was the first bit of personal information Derek had ever shared with him, the first hint at the man's life before he'd stumbled into it. "Who was the wolf?" he ventured. "And why did he kill his own kind? That's what rogue wolves do."

The man swallowed, and he closed his eyes. "I don't really know what his deal was, rogue or not, he killed other wolves and didn't really have a pack of his own. Then a hunter came and put an end to him. That's that."

Looking at the strain around Derek's eyes, and the frown etched into his face, Stiles doubted that was, indeed, that. But it was a start. It was something.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"That wolf killed his own kind and deserved to die. A lot of our kind do, but not everyone."

Derek's eyebrows shot up. "Oh really? Does this mean you're warming up to the Deucalion pack?"

"Hell no! I meant me. I'm not a bastard and neither are you, most of the time."

The other wolf looked at him intently, his hands twitching as if he were trying to keep them occupied. "Most of the time, huh?"

Stiles squared his shoulders and jutted out his jaw. "Yeah. Most of the time. When you admit I'm your mate, you'll be a bastard even less of the time. Now are you going to help me find the traps, or am I doing this on my own?"

"Now you want my help?"

The little wolf shrugged. "Only if you want to give it. I can do it on my own. I can do just about anything on my own."

The bigger wolf let out a sigh of resignation and nodded. "It's safer if we're both out there. Do you want to transform, and I'll keep my human form?"

Stiles's eyes trailed over Derek's massive shoulders, cloaked in a white shirt, and the jeans that fit him perfectly. Too bad he didn't want to shift into his wolf form so they could go on a run together, but that was too much to ask for. At least the black wolf was willing to help him without complaint.

He nodded and let his body shift, fur and claws growing as he gave in to the change. Then he shook his head and perked his ears, and Derek's fingers trailed over his coat.

"Let me get something, and we'll go."

The big man stepped out of the house a moment later with a crossbow and a walking stick resting in his hands.

Stiles's senses prickled as they stepped into the woods, the little wolf's feet stepping carefully as he sniffed the air for any sign of metal. They traversed the edge of the creek. Derek pushed aside undergrowth with a walking stick, and Stiles looked for any signs of disturbance on the forest floor, such as footprints or broken ferns, that might give away the hunter's movements.

They found very little. Broken branches here and there, the occasional boot mark that led nowhere, and a little piece of cloth caught on a tree. The scent on the dark material was faint, but Stiles was sure he could track the odor of the man if he found it again.

The water rushed past them, babbling over rocks and through long grass that dangled into it from each bank. It seemed like the perfect kind of creek to swim in, or at least splash around. It was wide enough to need a bridge to cross and deep enough to invite one to sit in it.

The hint of metal, sharp and unpleasant, caught Stiles's attention as they headed further down the mountain. He whined and pawed in the direction he sensed it, and Derek instantly understood.

Brushing the leaves aside with the walking stick, the man found the trap and lifted it from the ground with his strong, steady hands. When he snapped it shut, the metal teeth clamped together in a loud clap, which made the hair on Stiles's back stand on end.

His leg ached just looking at the thing. If Derek hadn't been there right at that moment, Stiles would have died at the farmer's hand. If not, the hunter would've discovered him and finished him off instead.

Either way, the big wolf saved his life. How could Stiles prove he was worthy of a mate like that? He'd find a way.

After another hour or so, they found three more traps and disabled them. Derek dangled them all over his arms, like dead rabbits. When they stood at the edge of the wood, looking out at the sprouting farmland dotting the distance as far as they could see, the little wolf wondered which house belonged to the valley pack.

Then he thought of Tristan, and his stomach tightened into a knot. That stupid wolf knew Derek better than he did, but why? The black wolf didn't say they were friends, but they acted like people who were tolerable of each other because of some shared experience. But what experience was it? He doubted the black wolf would tell him but Tristan might.

Over the next week, they went out daily in search of more traps and other signs of the hunter. If he was camping someplace, he did it far enough away from the two wolves to catch their interest. If he were a smart hunter, he'd stay in a hotel so Derek and Stiles couldn't sneak up on him at night, at least that's what the little wolf assumed.

After they cleared the area around the cabin of traps, they headed down into the valley. Derek said the Deucalions worked during the day, and if they kept to the outskirts of the fields they wouldn't notice the intrusion into their territory.

He seemed to be right. They never ran in to the other wolf pack while they scoured the fields for traps, but Stiles's curiosity burned with every new mile. Finally, one afternoon, while Derek was chatting with a farmer and the little wolf hid in a small patch of trees, he caught Tristan's scent.

It stung his nose, as astringent as alcohol, and he spotted the mid-ranked wolf climbing out of his beat-up blue car. He stood for a moment, his nose turned up into the wind, and glanced around.

Derek was downwind, so that meant he caught Stiles's scent. The little wolf's hackles rose, but he held his ground.

"Hey, omega. What the hell are you doing down here?" he asked as he stepped into the shade of the trees. The breeze rustled his auburn hair.

Stiles glared, but this was the opportunity he wanted. With one last glance in Derek's direction, he turned into a human and stepped out.

Tristan rolled his eyes. "You know what they'll do if they find you here, right?"

The little wolf scowled. "I'm not afraid of your pack. I want some answers, that's all."

His eyes widened, and he shook his head as if Stiles said something ridiculous. "You invade my territory and demand answers? Seems I didn't have a lot of luck with that approach. What makes you think you will?"

Stiles stood at his full height. "I told you the truth about the hunter, now I want the truth about Derek."

Tristan stared at the little wolf for a long moment. A bird tweeted in the tree above their heads and another bird answered. Then Tristan sighed. "Why don't you ask him? You live with the guy."

"Because he won't tell me everything. He said you were turned and went to him for help. Is that it? You guys seem like you know each other better than that. Did you want him to be your mate?" Stiles growled.

The other wolf let out a snort of laughter, though he didn't smile. "I came to him for help? I guess I did do that once, but that was after he already turned me into a wolf."

Stiles's heart dropped to his toes. If he moved his feet he'd drag it across the ground. "What? Why would he turn you unless he wanted you as a mate?"

Tristan crossed his arms. "Look. I hate being kept in the dark and being lied to, so I'll tell you. It's pretty fucked up that he didn't tell you already, but that's the black wolf for you. He'd been trying to change me into one of you since I was eighteen. I was destined to be Deucalion's mate, and Derek bit me to help me, or so he said. He wanted me to be able to defend myself against Deucalion, so Derek kidnapped me. Only I got away that time. Then I stumbled upon his cabin almost a year ago, and Derek bit me then. After I got away, I came back and joined Deucalion and his pack, he is my mate, not Derek."

"Did he want to mate with you?" Stiles asked, his voice little more than a grumble. Every muscle in his body felt like a spring ready to pounce.

Tristan shrugged. "Look, anything that happened between us …"

The little wolf jumped before Tristan could finish, toppling the man to the ground in a pile of leaves and dirt. Tristan coughed in surprise as they skidded to a stop.

"What happened between you?" Stiles demanded.

The other wolf swung a fist, catching Stiles right in the mouth, but he ignored the ache and swung back. His knuckle connected painfully with Tristan's cheekbone, and the man cursed and struggled to push him off. But Stiles had spent his entire life fighting. He raised his fist in warning, a dribble of blood splattering Tristan's cheek.

The other wolf stared at him with eyes as wide as the moon. "It didn't mean anything."

The words felt like a punch in the stomach. Derek wouldn't give in to his mate. He wouldn't claim Stiles, although they both felt the same tremendous pull toward each other, but he'd willingly touch a human, a human he changed, just because that human was destined to be Deucalion's mate.

Bile rose in his throat, and he clenched his hand into another fist. Tristan glared and tilted his body so they both rolled over the hard ground, rocks digging into Stiles's naked flesh, scraping and bruising it. Once the mid-ranked wolf had the upper hand, he stood up and wiped his cheek.

"You're bleeding." he said, a cloud of dust rising off of him.

Stiles licked his bottom lip and sat up. His physical wounds would heal soon enough, but what about the ache in his chest?

"I don't care."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Look. He didn't want me to be his mate, and I never wanted to be his. He was just lonely and I was there. Talk to him about it if you want, but taking it out on me is …"

"Shut the hell up!" Stiles growled. His eyes stung, but he willed the stupid tears not to fall, not in front of this bastard.

A breeze blew through the trees, and a sudden shout rang across the fields. Several shouts, actually, and the musk of foreign wolves touched the air as well.

"Shit. That's them." Tristan grumbled. "You'd better get the hell out of here before they see you."

The little wolf's hackles rose. Usually he'd bolt from another wolf's territory, but if he did Derek would be left alone to defend himself against an entire pack. Even after what the black wolf did, he couldn't abandon his mate.

Instead of running, Stiles squared his shoulders and growled.

"Tristan?" a strangely accented voice called.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Tristan hissed.

"I'm not leaving Derek alone."

The man shook his head. "Fucking wolves!"

"It's something a changeling wouldn't understand." Stiles said, his stomach knotting.

"Is this that damn omega? What do you think you're doing? Bringing a hunter down on our heads? Attacking our pack? You're going to pay for this!" the wolf that broke through the trees growled.

"Deucalion, wait!"

Deucalion didn't wait. He stalked up to Stiles and raised a fist. The little wolf, who was the same height as the two of them, dodged and swung. Deucalion caught his hand and landed a punch right in Stiles's unprotected stomach.

The little wolf doubled over, fighting to catch his breath and lash out. He had to keep them from noticing the black wolf, at least at the moment. If the Deucalion pack knew both Derek and Stiles were sneaking around their territory, who knows what they'd do, maybe start an all out war.

Not good with a hunter still on the loose.

The blood dripped onto the dusty ground, and Stiles perked his ears as Deucalion shuffled toward him.

"Leave him alone." Tristan warned and grabbed at his mate, but the other wolf shrugged him off.

"He wandered into our territory and attacked you. He's going to get what he deserves."

What he deserved? They sounded like the little wolf's former pack. He growled and leapt forward, knocking the other wolf off balance and swiping at his startled face.

The punch connected with a sickening crack, and Stiles landed three more before arms wrapped around him from behind. Someone strong yanked at his hair and another wolf gripped his arms. He wiggled in their grasp, casting his head sideways to see the two new wolves.

The dark haired one yanked his hair again. "Looks like we caught the chicken thief." he said in his odd accent.

Tristan shook his head. "I told you who was protecting him, the black wolf. Do you guys want to fuck with him? Really? I thought we had a truce."

Deucalion rounded on the mid-ranked wolf, his nose freely bleeding, and Stiles stomped on the Alpha's feet. The wolf flinched, and set his jaw stubbornly. "You're not getting away so easily."

"After this? No! We won't uphold the truce when they invade our territory!"

Stiles growled, though the pain in his scalp brought tears to his eyes. Whatever these wolves did to him would be worth it to protect Derek. That would prove how worthy he was. He'd do anything to protect his mate, even if that mate wanted Tristan instead of him.

"He came here to ask me a question."

"Then what happened to your face?" the Alpha asked calmly.

Tristan glowered and rubbed his cheek.

"I punched him because he fooled around with my mate!" Stiles said, and a stunned silence hung in the air.

Another bird whistled in the trees and shot off like a dart. The only sound for a good minute was the intake of breath. Tristan's face drained of color, and he glared at Stiles and threw his hands up into the air.

"They already know. It was before I joined their pack."

The wolves holding Stiles squeezed his arms and pulled his hair that much harder, and the little wolf wriggled in their grip. How was he supposed to get out of this? Then a blow landed on the small of his back. Pain shot through every nerve in his body and weakened his knees.

"I say we kill him now and deal with the black wolf later."

Stiles fought to yank his arms free. If he died now, he couldn't protect Derek from them.

"No!" Tristan cried and stepped forward, but Deucalion stood in his way.

"This is pack justice. He's responsible for many crimes."

The mid-ranked wolf glowered at his pack, and Stiles took the opportunity to take them all by surprise. He shifted into his animal form, his arms easily slipping through their hands, and he snipped at the one who hit him in the back. His teeth sunk into the wolf's leg in a satisfying way, and he leapt for the trees just as Derek lumbered through, his crossbow held at the ready.

A low growl rumbled from every wolf in the Deucalion pack, save Tristan.

"I wouldn't." Derek warned, and Stiles limped behind him. What had that other wolf done to his back?

"You're in our territory." Deucalion said, his eyes narrowing.

"We only came into your territory to clean up the hunter's traps. Looks like your pack didn't do a good job of it. What more did I expect?"

Deucalion wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve and stepped forward, but Tristan gripped his shoulder until his knuckles turned white.

"Let them go." he said, his voice wavering and his jaw clenched.

Was he mad at Stiles and Derek or his own pack?

"We can't just …" the wolf started, but Tristan cut him off.

"Let him go, or I'll go with them. Your choice."

If the little wolf could've gaped, he would've. Instead, Derek backed slowly out of the stand of trees, Stiles struggling next to him, until they cleared the entire field. That's when the stabbing pain exploded in his back, and the little wolf collapsed into the dirt, whimpering.

"You idiot." Derek growled, and hefted him up. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Stiles couldn't answer, and he fought not to pry himself free of the man's tender hold. After what he learned, how could he look at his mate the same ever again? He'd touched Tristan the same way he touched Stiles, but he'd done it willingly, without Tristan begging for it.

What was so wrong with him that his own mate didn't want him?

Thankfully, the larger wolf saved the lecture until after dinner. As soon as they got home, Derek helped Stiles into a bath and called Dr. Deaton. The man diagnosed the little wolf with a lightly bruised spine and advised him to take it easy for a few days while it healed.

Derek was very quiet as he prepared their meal, and Stiles couldn't meet the other man's eyes without thinking about what Tristan told him. He pictured his mate with the other wolf and glowered at the table. Did the black wolf still think of Tristan? Long for him?

He'd changed him, stalked him, how was that not the action of a mate?

The plate clinked as Derek set it on the table in front of him, piled high with venison steak, mashed potatoes and green beans. They even had a basket of biscuits on the side. After such a long day, Stiles's stomach grumbled and he dug into his food without a word. At least he kept his dinner down, even if his gut twisted and turned with every bite.

Derek didn't say anything until he finished the dishes.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked, his powerful hands gripping the table and the muscles bulging under his shirt.

"What do you mean?" Stiles mumbled.

"Why did you go near them? They didn't have to know we were there until you all but announced it." The man's knuckles blanched, although he didn't raise his voice.

The little wolf finally looked up. Derek's jaw tensed, his green eyes burning with a little flame of red.

"I wanted to talk to Tristan. He told me the truth about your relationship."

The black wolf's eyes widened. "What? What did he say?"

"Like I said, the truth! He told me you changed him! That you … you …" He couldn't finish his next sentence without letting on how weak he was. The kitchen got watery and he wiped his eyes, dropping his head back to the table.

"That I what? Gave in to my desires?"

Stiles swiped his tongue over the cut on his lip. It had bruised, but at least none of his teeth were broken. "If you liked him so much why didn't you claim him as your mate? You were already more than happy to fuck around with him."

"Did I say I wanted Tristan as my mate? No. He was just someone I was trying to help. Nothing more. Deucalion is a dangerous and ruthless Alpha, I just wanted Tristan to have a fighting chance. Little did I know that Deucalion actually cared for the boy."

"So you were forced to mate with him? You won't touch me, but you had to mess around with him. I get it!"

"No, you don't!" Derek roared, his voice rattling the little wolf to the bone.

He stared at the larger man. Derek's face flushed and the table cracked under his hold. Stiles had seen the black wolf annoyed and flustered but never truly angry.

"I never cared for Tristan like that, that's what made it easy. Just a release. It's different with you."

"That sounds like an excuse."

Derek shook his head. "No. It's an explanation. I'm not going to use you the way I used him." His voice trailed to nothing, and he let go of the table and ran a hand over his face. Then he cleared his throat. "You almost got yourself killed for that?"

Stiles stood up so quickly his chair toppled over backwards. A slight ache stabbed through his back, but it wasn't nearly as bad as earlier. At least he could stand up and walk properly now. "I almost got killed to protect you! I was trying to keep them busy so they didn't sense you."

"So you'd let them kill you?" the black wolf growled.

"If I had to in order to protect you. It's what a real mate would do, even if you won't claim me as your own." he said, his hands trembling by his sides.

The floor creaked as Derek stepped forward, looming over Stiles. The younger wolf hadn't felt small around the Deucalion pack, he was even taller than some of the Alpha's, but the black wolf made anyone feel tiny.

"Do you think I want you to sacrifice yourself for my sake?"

"If you don't want to claim me, than why would it matter?" Stiles mumbled, his heart aching as he stared at the man in front of him. The man whose lips could heal any hurt if only he'd press them to the little wolf's own.

The lines around Derek's eyes crinkled, and he frowned. Stiles heard every thump of the man's heart, and it nearly matched his own. Outside the kitchen window, something rustled through the bushes and an owl hooted from the trees.

"I didn't save you so you could throw your life away." he finally said and stalked into the living room, although every word sounded like a chore.

Stiles set his jaw and followed the man. "And I don't want to lose you. Even if you don't care."

Derek rounded on him. "I saved your ass twice, cub. Don't tell me I don't care."

"You don't care that I'm your mate. You don't care that I want you so badly it hurts, like being stabbed in the heart over and over again. If you did you'd …"

Derek grabbed the little wolf by the shoulders, his blunt fingers bruising. "If I'd what? Claim you? Fuck you so you could never leave my side?"

Stiles's breath hitched in his throat, his cock flooding with need at the other man's proximity, his smooth pink lips so close and so kissable. He nodded.

The black wolf's eyes sizzled over Stiles's face, Derek's hands slipping over the little wolf's biceps slowly.

"Why him and not me?" he asked.

"He was convenient." Derek's words were barely a whisper, and their lips nearly brushed.

"And what am I?" Stiles asked, his entire being begging for this moment.

Derek made an indecipherable noise and gritted his teeth, the white fangs catching the lamplight. "This is what you want?" he growled as his hands slipped off Stiles's taut arms and over the little wolf's chest. "You want me to give into you like I gave into him?"

With stinging eyes, he glared at the other man. "No! I want you to …"

Lips smashed against Stiles's before he finished his sentence, the sweet taste of his mate flooding his mouth. His almost mate, when the other wolf finally claimed him they'd be complete. They stumbled and fell onto the couch, the thick cushions breaking their fall. Hands dug into his hips, the tongue probed past his bruised lip and filled him with a heat he'd never known, like having a fever on a sweltering summer's day.

"This is what you want?" Derek growled, and the little wolf stared into those wide, arctic eyes. "You want me to take you, no matter what?"

A hardened bulge pressed against Stiles's own, and he groaned and writhed under it, urging the friction to overwhelm them both.

The black wolf's eyes shone bright and red in the room's dim yellow light. The little wolf leaned up into him, but the man's hand pressed against his chest, holding him in place.

"No, cub. This is what you want, right? Me to take advantage of you just like I did to Tristan."

He grasped Stiles's green T-shirt and ripped. The material fell open and revealed the wolf's chest, slick with sweat and tight with muscles. Fingers groped over his brown nipples, pinching them until he squirmed. Then Derek's mouth descended upon them, licking and sucking the delicate skin as the little wolf moaned, winding his fingers in the man's silky, black hair.

The black wolf growled and shook Stiles's hands free. His usually sharp eyes hooded and narrow, devious almost. The little wolf's heart slammed in his chest at the man's expression. Would Derek finally give in and claim him? Make Stiles his mate?

To be continued ...

* * *

I just posted a new story ( The Wolf Pack & Fairy Clan War ). Let me know what you think.

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	10. Chapter 10

Blunt fingers grabbed his sweats and yanked until Stiles was free of them. His cock curled up, thick and throbbing for the other man.

For a moment, Derek's eyes softened, and he licked his perfect lips. Then his face snapped shut again, and he grumbled under his breath, like he was having a silent argument with someone inside his own mind.

Stiles reached for the man. His hands sparked as they met the black wolf's rock hard chest, his fingers exploring the bulges of muscle. He delighted in the tightened fabric around the man's cock.

"Do you want to take my clothes off, cub?" Derek growled.

"Yes." Stiles breathed, pulling at the buttons until they popped open. The little wolf palmed the skin, his hand catching fire, and Derek grumbled again.

Without warning, the man pushed the little wolf's hands above his head. "Don't make this worse." he groaned. "You don't have a say anymore, remember?"

Stiles's mind reeled. A say in what? Being claimed? Why did that matter?

Then a calloused finger stroked the length of his shaft and every thought fluttered out of his mind. A surge of desire shot through his veins, and he bucked his hips into the touch. He needed more of that! More pressure. More friction.

"Ah." he moaned, and bit his lip until the cut popped open.

The black wolf must've smelled the blood, its coppery scent sharp. He furrowed his wide brow, and ran his finger over the weeping head. "This is the good part. Do you know what comes next?"

Stiles nodded, dimly aware of the question.

"I could flip you on your stomach and claim you right here. I don't even have to use lube. Is that what you want?" he said in a voice so soft it almost faded into the night.

"Yes. I don't care." Stiles begged. "Anything. Just claim me, please!"

Derek's nostrils flared, his hands trembling as he unzipped his pants. The hearty length that popped out glistened with pre-come, and Stiles's heart pounded in his throat. This was it. He'd finally get his mate.

"This is what you want." the man roared, his eyes as hard as diamonds. Hands grabbed the little wolf's thighs and forced them up, rolling his hips forward. "Do you want to stare at me while I violate you, cub?"

Before he could answer, the thick head nudged his ass, the black wolf's hands spreading his cheeks as it burned his virgin entrance.

"I don't even have to stretch you out. Is this what you want?"

Something hot dripped down Stiles's cheeks. If this is what his mate wanted. At least the man would claim him. At least he'd admit the truth.

"I. . . don't. . . care." he breathed.

Derek dropped Stiles's legs, the burning pain fading to nothing but a memory. "I'm so sorry."

"What? No! Claim me. Please!"

The black wolf's eyes dropped, and he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Stiles's.

"Please." the little wolf begged again, his eyes stinging worse than before. "I don't care if it hurts. I want you. I want you to claim me."

The taller man shook his head, and his lips brushed Stiles's temple. A hand grasped the little wolf's aching cock, and the world blurred again. Lips brushed down his chest, and the hand on his shaft trembled.

"I'm so sorry, Stiles." the man muttered again as his tongue slipped over the little wolf's aching erection.

The black wolf lapped at the head, exciting every nerve in Stiles's body. A strong hand gripped the base, holding his hips steady as they fought to buckle into the source of pleasure.

Derek's mouth engulfed the shaft, and the smaller wolf's eyes rolled back. Heat enveloped him, the smooth pressure squeezing, sucking and licking all at the same time. Stiles dug his nails into the couch and gasped, the world narrowing to nothing but that moment and the black wolf's perfect touch.

Large fingers groped his balls, rolling them in circles as the assault on his shaft continued. The man devoured him whole, his tongue trailing over the shaft in a circular motion, then teasing the head until Stiles couldn't stand it anymore.

With a final swish of his tongue, Stiles bucked, the sensation flooding over and through him like a strong gust of wind. A moan lingered on his lips as the heat of his load seeped into the other wolf's willing mouth.

Then Derek's lips popped free and the man peppered Stiles's thighs with kisses. When he leaned back, he slowly sat on the coffee table and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry." he said for the third time.

"Why are you sorry? Because you didn't claim me?"

The man sneered. "No. Because I almost did it in the worst way possible. I – I shouldn't have done that, cub."

Stiles's eyes flashed and he sat up, ignoring the protest in his back. The black wolf's length was still rock hard, pleasuring the little wolf must've turned him on. "I wanted it. You don't have to be sorry. I liked it."

"You …" the man started, but Stiles cut him off.

His slender, calloused fingers grasped the meaty length. It pulsed beneath his palm, and the black wolf's eyes widened. Slowly, the little wolf's fingers trailed over the slick head, and Derek took a sharp breath, as though he'd been hit. The man gripped the table he sat on, his knuckles whitening.

At least he didn't tell the smaller wolf to stop.

Stiles licked the blood from his lip and leaned forward.

"No." Derek groaned, but it was hardly a breath of air.

The little wolf flicked his tongue over the slick head, all salt and tang and musk. The heat of the black wolf's cock throbbed, the man's muscular thighs went rigid like twine wound too tight. Closing his eyes, Stiles focused on his mate's labored breath, the pounding of his heart, and slipped his lips over the tip.

Derek let out something between a groan and a growl. "Stiles. Don't." he huffed, though he did nothing to stop the little wolf.

Stiles's cheeks burned. Every sound his mate made urged him forward. The shaft slid into his mouth easily, and he tried to emulate what the black wolf did for him. His tongue traced the length and he gripped the base while his lips pursed and sucked.

"Fuck." Derek moaned, and the little wolf smiled at his handiwork.

For once, his mate wasn't pushing him away.

His veins burned, like the black wolf's body set fire to his own, but he relished in the delicate taste of the man all the same. It was the first time his mate truly gave into him. Their bodies were connected by more than just the instinctual tug, but by something deeper.

Is that what being claimed was like?

Stiles hoped so.

"Stiles." the man gasped, and his body tensed for a moment. Then his warm load burst into the little wolf's mouth.

He coughed, pulled back and wiped his mouth as he looked up at the taller man.

What would he find in those eyes? Seething anger? Annoyance?

The man's chest heaved, and he frowned. "You shouldn't have done that."

The little wolf glowered. "I wanted to, and you didn't stop me."

The blunt tip of Derek's thumb slipped across Stiles's swollen lip, and shadows fell across the man's face. "I know." he said softly.

Was he going to say more? Admonish Stiles for pushing him? Tell him he shouldn't have? That it was wrong? That they weren't really mates?

Instead, Derek stood up slowly, as if every muscle in his body ached, and held a hand out for the little wolf. "You need your rest. How does your back feel?"

Stiles glowered at him and shrugged. "Fine."

The black wolf raised a weary eyebrow. "I don't believe you."

"That's all you have to say? You're not even going to explain why you didn't claim me? Why you did that but you wouldn't …"

A strong arm slipped over the little wolf's shoulder, the bicep pressing into the back of his neck and silencing him with the gesture. Derek was hugging him? He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into the man's hold, his hands groping at the black wolf's back as if they would keep him from tumbling into a void.

"It was fucked up. This whole situation is fucked up."

"But we're mates. How can that be fucked up?" he whispered into Derek's chest.

The man didn't answer.

To be continued …

* * *

I posted a new Sterek story called War. Go check it out.

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	11. Chapter 11

The dim light of morning shone through the dusty blue curtains, and Stiles twitched in his sleep. His dark lashes fluttered and he let out a whimper before tightening his hold on Derek's chest. The black wolf stared at the window, listening to the relentless chirp of cheery birds in the forest, though his mind was on anything but the day to come.

He gripped the smaller wolf's shoulder and frowned. The universe must be laughing at him. After what he did to Tristan, after years of living alone in the woods, this is what he got.

An eighteen-year-old lone wolf. A headstrong, defiant, infuriating little cub.

When Kate told him they were mates, all those years ago, the words sent a shiver to his very core. It sounded so exclusive. Special. Even as a horny eighteen-year-old himself, he couldn't deny it made him feel like he belonged somewhere for the first time in a very long time.

But that lying bitch didn't mean a damn word she said. Mates. It was nothing but a lie, a figment of his imagination. How the hell did mates even find each other in the big, wide world? How could two wolves from different packs come together in a bond more powerful than any they'd ever known?

The ridiculous sentiment tied you to another wolf for the rest of your life.

Derek took a deep breath, and focused on the little wolf's heart, beating gently.

That's what he thought before he met Stiles. And it was getting harder to go on thinking it now, especially after last night.

Why the hell did he give in to his desire like that? His stomach knotted when he thought of what he'd almost done, how willingly Stiles submitted to him. The idiocy of youth was almost unbearable sometimes. The little wolf had no idea how badly it would have hurt, and worse, Derek wanted to use that as a lesson to forestall the cub.

Some plan that turned out to be.

He'd apologized, of course, and even given in to the passion for a change. He let it flow through his body, the lust that overwhelmed him. Stiles tasted like an absolute dream. Every inch of his body, slick with sweat and want, intoxicated Derek.

Maybe that's why he didn't push the cub away when he returned the favor. Or maybe it was something more sinister, lurking in his animalistic ways. He wanted the little wolf to touch him like that.

That could be, but why did he take Stiles to his bed? Why let the cub steal his blankets and cuddle against him? Was it the little wolf's startling eyes? Or was it his willingness to protect Derek, no matter what?

Or maybe it was the ache in his gut and groin? The twist in his heart when he noticed Stiles surrounded by the Deucalion pack, his lip bloody and his body sagging between those damn wolf brothers.

If anything happened to the cub, how could he live with himself? After he'd done so much to protect him? To help him, and now he had more than just a hunter to worry about. The Deucalions would want blood for what Stiles did, especially if Tristan couldn't talk them down.

A bird whistled right outside the window, and Derek ran a large hand over his face. He wouldn't let anything happen to Stiles, even if he couldn't tell the little wolf that.

Derek did his best to wipe the previous night from his mind, and thankfully Stiles didn't assault him with his usual questions. Instead the little wolf glanced at him from under those thick black lashes, his cheeks flushing as if he had a fever. They went to work as usual, spending the morning in the workshop and the afternoon in the woods. Derek couldn't deny they made an excellent team.

Stiles's senses were keen, and he could track down the hunter given the chance. Not to mention how eager he was to prove himself, almost to a fault. He could do anything, or so he claimed, and the black wolf didn't deny it. At least, the little wolf took responsibility for his actions, and he wanted to fix things.

Was Derek so mature at his age? No. Far from it. He blamed everyone for his circumstances. Stiles did something about it. The cub no longer reminded him of himself, or even Tristan. He was better than both of them.

They didn't dare step back into the valley. If the Deucalions wanted to clean up the traps in their territory, they could do it on their own. Good thing there was no sign of them skulking around the mountain, yet.

Unfortunately, they still had few leads on the hunter, besides that stray piece of cloth and the man's scent, but that didn't surprise Derek. The only hunter he'd ever met came out of nowhere, and if it hadn't been for Peter, the black wolf would be just as dead as his bastard uncle. Hunters didn't live long if they weren't experts, but that meant they had to catch him quickly before he did any real damage.

The black wolf wasn't sure how it happened, but ever since that night, Stiles seemed to end up in his bed every evening. The little wolf, his musky scent rich and warm, cuddled next to Derek and fell asleep like it's where he was meant to be. Every time the black wolf opened his mouth to shoo the cub back to his room, the words didn't come out. After five days, he got so used to Stiles's habits, sleeping without him seemed almost impossible.

Derek realized this when he woke one morning with the distinct feeling that something was wrong. The sun shone through the canopy of trees, lighting up the blue curtain and dying the whole room with the cool light. He stretched and noticed the space next to him was empty.

Stiles was gone.

He sat up quickly. "Stiles?" he called.

The little wolf didn't answer. Sniffing the air, Derek caught the faint odor of blood and fur, maybe he was in the lean-to skinning a kill. Or the Deucalions decided to attack. No. He didn't get a hint of their musk.

He jumped out of bed and pulled on his jeans, forgoing a shirt. The weather inched toward warmth with each new day, though the air still held the chill of spring. The true heat of summer never set in until July.

Derek peeked into the kitchen. Empty. Shit! Where the hell did that damn cub go? Without bothering with shoes, he rushed outside. The lean-to reeked of old blood, but it always did. The smoky scent of cooked meat fluttered through the air from the smoke hut. The hint of Stiles's fragrance hung on everything.

"Stiles." he bellowed again.

The forest rustled. A crow cawed from high in a tree, but the little wolf didn't respond.

He sighed and checked the lean-to and smoke hut. Both were empty. Not a surprise, but he needed to cover his bases. No point assuming the worse if the cub decided to get an early start, for whatever reason.

The bridge creaked under his bare feet as he jogged toward the workshop. Locked. No way Stiles could be inside.

"Cub!" he called and spotted a footprint in the sand next to the creek, a bare footprint.

Sunlight streamed through the canopy, the yellow light tinted green by the trees overhead. The long grass sloped into the stream, which babbled next to him over rocks and around fallen logs. The water was too quick for moss to grow on anything but the trunks of trees. The smell of the water cleansed other scents in the area, but he caught the fleeting tinge of Stiles. What the hell was the cub doing? Swimming?

Did the hunter . . . . No!

Derek ran, dodged several trees and broke into a small clearing. The stream slowed here. Two large logs blocked its progress, and it bulged out into a pool. Stiles hunched at the side with a homemade spear, a thin branch with one end sharpened to a point, clutched in his fist. He stabbed it into the water and pulled it out in a lightning fast movement, a fish wriggling on the end.

At least he wore a pair of sweatpants, the bottoms soggy although he'd rolled them up, since he failed to put on his shoes. His sculpted chest shimmered with sweat and droplets of water in the morning light, and Derek frowned at the cub's toned build and strong arms.

"Fishing?" the black wolf said. "You came out here to go fishing, all by yourself?"

Stiles's head shot up, and his eyes widened. Then he set his jaw into a stubborn pout. "You were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you, and I didn't know if you liked fishing or not. I thought it'd be a surprise."

Derek closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists before he shoved them into his pockets. "It's not safe out here."

Why did he say that? Stiles already knew the risks, but the cub was in his care. If anything happened …

The little wolf stared. "I can take care of …"

"Not against a hunter. Not if one found you out here alone and unprotected. Dammit. I thought you had more sense than that!"

Stiles lowered the spear to his side. This was it. He was going to rant about how he could do anything, even take on an experienced hunter, just because he'd been on his own for so long. The little wolf could do a lot but not that.

"You were worried about me?" he said in a gruff whisper.

Derek's heart skipped a beat, and he took a deep breath. "I don't want that hunter eviscerating you."

The cub grinned. "Neither do I."

"Are you finished?" the black wolf asked, his skin heating in the bright sunlight. Or maybe Stiles's smile had something to do with it.

The little wolf lifted up his bucket and trotted across the fallen logs like they were a bridge made just for him. Derek glanced in and counted about twenty different fish, all a decent size.

"Let me guess. You want those for breakfast?" he asked as they wandered back toward the cabin. They'd already cleared that area of traps, but it didn't mean the hunter hadn't laid new ones.

"Yeah. I know this sounds weird, but I was tired of venison."

The black wolf chuckled. "Fair enough. Why didn't you say something?"

Stiles's cheeks flushed, and he shrugged. "I wanted to do it on my own. You can catch all the deer we can eat, but I can catch the fish. We're sort of equals in that way."

A branch snapped under Derek's foot, and he patted the cub on the head. "Equals, huh?"

Brown eyes flashed when they met his. "You don't think so? I'm not an omega anymore."

The smile that slid across the black wolf's mouth felt more natural than any he'd ever given. "No, we're equals, cub, even if you still have a lot to learn."

"Good. That means I can claim you, if I want to. That way we'll be mates, no matter what."

The man grimaced, his hand tightening on the little wolf's shoulder. Derek was an Alpha, no wolf was going to claim him, even his own mate, his wolf would never allow it. "You most certainly won't."

Stiles stared at him, brow furrowed, but he didn't say anything more.

When they got back to the cabin, he cleaned the fish and cooked them while the little wolf watered the garden. Derek caught glimpses of Stiles through the trees, realizing his wolf felt protective of what he considered his. How did he explain to Stiles that the human inside him simply wasn't ready to claim the cub.

He'd never told a living soul about Kate, save what little he revealed to Tristan. And even that was unpleasant, and an accident. Telling the entire story wasn't something he wanted to broach, especially when he spent the last eighteen years trying to forget it.

When the little wolf came back in, the scent of cut plants hung about him as if he'd rolled in something. As Derek set their breakfast on the table, he noticed what made the smell. Freshly cut wild flowers, a motley combination of purple and yellow, sat in a little glass.

"They're for you." Stiles grumbled and stared at his feet.

"Me?"

"Because it's what humans do for the people they love, right? They give each other flowers to show how they feel."

Derek's father, before he'd died, always brought his mom flowers for her birthday. Even a simple bouquet of cheap chrysanthemums lit up her face. The big wolf's heart ached at the thought. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to go back there. Not after how they died.

"Do you hate them?" Stiles demanded, shaking Derek from his thoughts.

"No. I've never gotten flowers before. Thank you, cub."

The little wolf grinned again, almost shyly, and sat down at the table.

It was hard to believe Stiles had lived without any human contact for five years, seeing how far he'd come now. "We need to find the hunter's camp." the little wolf said after he'd devoured one fish. "I still think we should check the hotels."

"I'm not sure how a hunter would afford that. They've been out there over two months, that's one expensive hotel bill."

The little wolf shrugged. "Fine. Maybe they're staying with someone, like I'm staying with you."

The thought made the hair on the back of Derek's neck stand up. "It's a possibility." he admitted. "But we have no way of finding out if that's the case or not. We have to catch the bastard in action."

Who the hell would house a hunter for that long? Unless they didn't know he was a hunter, but it still raised too many questions, like how did this hunter afford to stay with someone. Was it a friend or family member? Did any of the locals know about were-creatures? Probably not.

To be continued …

* * *

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

English is not my first language and I do not have a beta so feel free to correct any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes I might have made.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Let's head up the mountain today. There's snow at the higher elevations and the road to the other side of the mountain is still closed."

Stiles shoved the last bite of fish into his mouth and nodded. "What if we can't find the hunter on time?" he asked and his fork clinked on the plate.

Derek let out a long breath. That was a very real possibility, especially if things kept going at the same rate. But the little wolf's furrowed brow and round eyes stilled the black wolf's tongue.

"We will. Come on. I think we should trade places today. I'll turn and you stay human."

"I can't use the crossbow." Stiles said as he carried his plate to the sink.

The big wolf raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I thought you could do anything."

"You know what I meant, wolf stuff. That's human stuff."

"It's not that hard. You just point and shoot, we can practice on the way. Don't shoot me, though."

The cub glowered at him, but it held no malice. Then he gathered up the things they'd need for the hike. Thankfully, Stiles dressed without complaint, though he grumbled as he tied up the hiking boots, bare feet gripped the ground better, he claimed.

Derek smiled. "And they wouldn't protect your ankles from another trap."

The little wolf grabbed the walking stick from its place against the wall. "You're supposed to keep your nose out for it. If I stepped into a trap, it'd be your fault."

"Touché." Derek said as he slipped off his jeans. Stiles's eyes lingered on his naked body, his pink tongue flicking out over his lips urgently.

The black wolf's thoughts wandered back to that night, five days before, and his groin burned with the same desire. No. They had work to do, and he couldn't give in to the cub again, no matter how good it felt.

Derek shifted as they stepped outside, and Stiles wound his fingers through the smooth black fur. "Someday, we'll have to go for a run through the woods together, after we take care of the hunter."

Derek nodded and stalked toward the forest, the little wolf walking next to him awkwardly. They slipped off the trail and into the deep woods, headed up the mountain. The fir trees blocked much of the overhead light, only slivers of blue shone in the sky above their heads. A carpet of pine needles littered the floor, and the temperature dropped the farther they climbed, another reason he insisted Stiles wear the boots.

The cub practiced with the crossbow as they went, aiming at trees and pinecones. He wasn't a good shot, but he'd get better in time.

The undergrowth thinned to nothing the higher they climbed. Rock outcroppings jutted from the ground now and then, some large enough to camp under. The rock was blackened, but none of them were recently used. The entire wood smelled of pine, fir and the clinging chill of winter.

Soon they passed patches of snow, laced with dirt, and the little wolf poked each one with his walking stick. No traps so far. Good. That meant the hunter had focused his efforts on the lower mountain and not bothered this high up.

A hawk circled in the sky above the trees, and the black wolf sniffed the air. The sharp odor of blood and death tickled his nose, and he turned his great head up to Stiles. From the look on the cub's face, he smelled it too.

They walked carefully toward the source of the stench, Stiles testing the ground with the walking stick and Derek sniffing for any signs of metal. It could be a coyote kill, but it wasn't worth it to take that chance. Then the sharp reek of metal met the large wolf's nose, and he let out a low growl. Hopefully, Stiles understood its intent.

The little wolf slowed and gathered a handful of Derek's fur in his hand. While he'd told the cub just that morning that they were equals, he couldn't deny the urge to move in front of the little wolf and protect him from whatever they were about to find.

The bear's twisted body lay in a pile of pine needles at the top of a small rise in the landscape. Three crossbow bolts stuck out of her chest like some macabre dartboard. Blood caked her claws and her dark fur. From the look of her body, huge and stiff, she'd been dead for several hours.

Stiles took a sharp breath and dropped the walking stick. It clattered to the ground with a dull thud. "That smells like the mother bear." he mumbled.

The wolf sat back on his haunches and lowered his ears. Whoever did this wasn't just hunting them, he was hunting all the creatures on the mountain, and he was going to pay for his arrogance. Something coiled in Derek's gut, a burning anger for the man disrupting life on his mountain, his territory.

"What are we going to do with her?" Stiles asked, his voice shaking and his brown eyes wide. "She had cubs, I met them once."

Derek didn't smell any other animals. Hopefully, the hunter had caught the mother bear on her own and left the cubs unharmed. He stepped up to the bear and sniffed her claws, the blood was a different odor than her own. This blood was human, a hunter's blood.

The little wolf crouched next to him and did the same.

The hunter was injured from his fight with the bear. Unlike a were-creature, humans healed at a snail's pace. He'd be moving slowly, and they'd use that to their advantage.

The black wolf caught the cub's sleeve and pulled. There was nothing more they could do for her but locate the bastard and finish him off before he killed any other animals.

Stiles hesitated for a moment, then he leaned down and grabbed the walking stick from the forest floor. As he did, a bolt flew over his head and lodged into the tree next to him.

The little wolf's round eyes met Derek's and the black wolf cursed his idea for them to trade places. Stiles moved more gracefully as a wolf not a human, especially one hampered by hiking boots. The next bolt wouldn't miss.

The black wolf, teeth bared, nudged the cub with his head, forcing the little wolf onto his massive back. Stiles swung his leg over Derek, as the black wolf took off, running through the woods at his top speed. A wave of pine needles rose in his wake.

Hands clung to his fur, and the walking stick clattered uselessly behind him. Derek tried, as best he could, to go back the way they came. If a trap caught him now ...

No time to think about that.

Run!

The trees slowed his progress, dodging each one took precious seconds from their grand escape. At least Stiles had the sense to lean forward and bury his face in the black wolf's fur.

Smaller target, that was good.

Another bolt whistled past them.

Too close!

Dammit!

The third found its mark, and Derek yelped as the thin metal cylinder buried itself in his upper shoulder. Pain shot down his leg and spine, but he barely slowed his pace. The hunter was wounded. Not a chance in hell he could keep up with a wolf.

Derek ran until the firs and pines gave way to ash, birch and maple. Green ferns brushed his fur, and the sunlight warmed his snout. Every step he took was labored, slowing steadily, and Stiles slipped off his back and looked around, as if the hunter kept pace with them.

"You're hurt! What should I do?" he asked, and his heart pounded in his chest as if he was the one running down a mountain carrying another wolf on his back.

Derek stayed in his wolf form, but kept pressure off his wounded leg. Looking back up the mountain, they'd left a clear trail that any hunter could follow. That's probably what the bastard was betting on. He wanted to be able to find them, not kill them right there. Well, he wasn't going to get the chance.

As soon as the creek came into view, the black wolf plunged into it. The icy water soaked his fur, and his great paws slipped on the rounded stones littering the stream's bed, but it was the only way to hide their trail.

Stiles removed his boots and splashed behind Derek without a word.

When he finally stumbled back to the cabin, Derek shifted into his human form and collapsed against the bathroom sink, shivering from the cold water and the slow but steady loss of blood.

"Derek. Should I call Dr. Deaton?" Stiles asked in a much steadier voice than he'd used before.

The black wolf nodded and looked at the bolt sticking out of his shoulder. It was embedded in his flesh a good two to three inches. Removing it would increase the blood loss but leaving it in hurt like a son-of-a-bitch!

He slumped on the edge of the tub, and listened to Stiles talk on the phone. Funny. He couldn't remember telling the cub Dr. Deaton's number. Maybe the little wolf found it in the contact list.

After he hung up the phone, Stiles leaned over him and started a hot bath, nudging Derek into the tub. The water eased the constant shivers traveling up and down his spine.

"He said to warm you up until he arrived. I'm not supposed to take out the bolt. I'm sorry. It's my fault you ..."

The black wolf shook his head. "You didn't shoot me, Stiles. He did. Don't worry about it. We threw him off our trail and caught his scent. We'll catch him soon enough."

Stiles gave him a stiff nod and leaned forward. His lips brushed Derek's. The black wolf looked up at the cub, and his heart twisted and ached. If the hunter aimed just a little bit higher, things might be very different right now.

The little wolf soaped a cloth and rubbed it over Derek's throbbing muscles, washing away as much of the blood as possible. He stared at the cub's intent brown eyes and his dark hair, the way it stood up all over his head since he hadn't combed it yet.

Leaning back in the tub, he let the water ease him, although he flinched whenever Stiles neared the bolt.

"I'll take care of you." the little wolf said.

Derek smiled. "Yeah. I know."

To be continued …


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"You need to change the bandage twice a day and clean the wound."

Stiles nodded and squared his shoulders. Derek took care of him, and he could return the favor easily. The doctor sounded surprised when Stiles called him, then worried when the little wolf told him what happened. At least he got there quickly, just as Stiles helped Derek from the tub.

When Dr. Deaton pulled the bolt from the black wolf's shoulders, Derek's eyes widened, and he let out a sharp growl and winced. The blood dripped freely down his arm, and the little wolf wiped it up as the doctor cleaned and bound the wound. Then they helped the black wolf to his bedroom to rest.

"How's your back?" Dr. Deaton asked.

Stiles kept his eyes on Derek's chest, the gentle rise and fall of the man's breathing. "It's fine. Healed. How long will it take him?"

"A week or so. Don't worry. The muscle should heal completely given time. How about your leg?"

The little wolf bent it and shrugged. It ached in the middle of the night from time to time, and it gave out on him once when he was chasing a rabbit out of the garden. "Better. Thanks, for everything."

"I'll be going now. If you need anything else, give me a call."

Stiles locked the door behind the doctor, just to be safe, and peeked in at Derek. The man's eyes fluttered, like he wasn't quite asleep. The little wolf's chest ached at the sight of his mate like this. Cuddling up next to the man was all he wanted to do, but he had other priorities at the moment.

Slowly, the black wolf blinked at him.

"You need to rest." Stiles said from the doorway.

Derek grimaced, and his stomach grumbled. "Can I eat first?"

Right! It was already past lunchtime, the hike up the mountain and back took several hours. "Yeah. I'll make something. We still have roast in the fridge, right?"

Derek nodded slowly and licked his perfect lips. The gesture sent a jolt through Stiles's body, and he dug his nails into the doorframe, almost scratching it.

He'd been with Derek long enough that he'd picked up some cooking tricks, but preparing a whole roast was still beyond him. Instead, Stiles pulled all the leftovers from the fridge and made a platter of sandwiches with some chips on the side. They didn't look quite as neat as the sandwiches the black wolf made, but they tasted fine.

With his mouth set into a pout, he carried the plate to Derek. The little wolf's fingers trembled as he set the food down, his chest tightening when he stared at the man's wide brow.

The black wolf's nose twitched, and he blinked his eyes. "I thought you were sick of venison?"

Stiles shrugged and perched on the side of the bed. "It's all we have. Do you like them?"

Derek struggled to pick one up, half the contents spilling back onto the plate. When he took a bite, a smear of mustard stained his lips. "It's good, wonderful. Thanks."

The little wolf dabbed the man's lips and grinned. Stiles picked up the sandwich and held it to his mate's mouth. For a moment, Derek stared at him, his expression odd, as if he'd never seen the little wolf in his life and he was taking in every aspect of him for the first time. Then he opened his mouth and took a hearty bite.

"You really are going to take care of me." he grumbled and picked at the chips.

"I said I would. I'd do anything for you."

The black wolf's jaw tensed, and he nodded stiffly. "Don't wander too far in the woods today. If you want to go to the woodshop, keep the door closed while you work. If anything happened to you . . ." his words died, and Stiles held another bite to his mouth.

Derek's eyes drooped throughout the meal, and the little wolf's heart clenched. The doctor said he'd be tired, but he'd never seen the man vulnerable before. It'd always been the other way around. Now Stiles would nurse his mate back to health. It was another chance to prove how capable he was, as long as he didn't screw it up.

He helped Derek settle back in bed when he was finished, and pulled the covers over him, the little wolf's fingers lingering on the thick muscles and the rough hair that covered the man's chest. He even opened the window and let the breeze blow through the room as Derek fell into the steady rhythm of sleep.

After he cleared the rest of the man's plate and ate his own lunch, Stiles slunk outside to check the boarders of their territory, sniffing the air for a hint of the hunter's blood.

Nothing.

When he squeezed his eyes shut, he remembered the dead bear. Her cubs were somewhere on the mountain, alone and scared, unless the hunter already got to them. The little wolf couldn't leave them like that, not after what already happened to their mother. They'd die on their own.

But if he left Derek alone and the hunter found their cabin, dammit! What was he supposed to do?

Stiles locked the front and back doors and slipped the key into his pocket. The hunter wouldn't know for certain this was their cabin, not if Derek was in his human form. He'd get the bear cubs and be back before the black wolf even woke from his nap.

The trek back into the woods made his hackles rise, and he stepped carefully and even wore the stupid hiking boots just in case he stumbled across another trap. The mother bear's cave sat just over the edge of Derek's territory, up the mountain and tucked behind a curtain of massive fir trees. Stiles stopped and sniffed the air before he ducked into the cave, the scent of bear was so strong it masked everything else, even the smell of a human. If the hunter were there, he'd just have to kill the bastard.

Something rustled inside the cave, and he carefully pushed the branches aside. Two sets of yellow eyes met his, the little bears about a foot taller than the last time he'd seen them. They walked out of the cave, sniffing at him and making little sounds, baring their fangs every now and then just to be sure he wasn't going to hurt them.

Stiles furrowed his brow, his eyes stinging when he looked at their round ears and snouts. They weren't were-bears so they wouldn't understand what happened to their mother. He'd have to take them home and ask Derek what to do with them.

Reaching forward, he gently patted them on the head. Hopefully, they'd make the hike back easy. With one last glance at their cave, he led the bears down the mountain, keeping to the woods so no humans saw what he was doing. They'd probably think he'd lost his mind.

The very trees seemed to watch him as they descended back toward the cabin. Every rustle of wind through the green leaves made the little wolf whip around, as if another bolt came sailing through the air, aimed right at his chest. He shook his head and walked as quickly as he could with two baby bears in tow.

Derek would be angry with him again for disobeying his orders. The thought twisted in Stiles's heart like a knife, and his breath caught in his throat. The man's eyes got red when he was mad, and they hardened like they could cut through pure steel.

The little wolf's chest ached. He thought of the look on Derek's face when he gave the man flowers that morning. The black wolf's pale cheeks flushed and his shoulders relaxed.

A different kind of wild flower littered the ground here, little red poppies growing in huge clumps, like spilled blood on the forest floor. The bear cubs sniffed at the open blossoms and sneezed, shaking their heads.

Stiles grinned as he gathered a handful of the flowers. Get well soon flowers, that's what humans gave each other when they were sick. When his gran was sick, he brought her flowers too. She'd smiled, her wrinkled face like a peach left out in the sun, and patted his cheek with her calloused palms.

That was the last time he'd seen her, and it still hurt after all these years, but it didn't hurt as badly as it used to. Instead, another pang stabbed him right in the gut, and the little wolf almost dropped the poppies when the truth slammed into him.

Derek was his mate, but that was what his wolfish instincts told him. They were meant to be together, no matter what, because of the pull. But this new throb in his chest was something else, not only mates, but love.

He loved Derek.

After all that time in the woods, he didn't even think he'd be capable of regaining his life as a human. Much less falling in love like one. But every time he thought of the black wolf, his stomach did backflips and his heart hurt, like it wanted to burst out of his chest.

He loved Derek.

He loved his mate in all possible ways.

What was he supposed to do about it when the man wouldn't claim him?

Then a shout broke in the clearing ahead, and a flock of sparrows took off out of the trees.

Stiles gripped the poppies in his hand and ushered the cubs through the woods, urging them forward as they neared the sound. It came from the cabin, angry voices and the subtle musk of Deucalion wolves. The valley pack was encroaching on their territory now?

Shit!

The cubs perked up their ears, but huddled around his legs the closer they got to the clearing. He couldn't very well waltz up with the bears clinging to his pants, so he hurried them to the lean-to and put them inside, locking the door for good measure. There wasn't anything in there they could destroy.

Then he slunk around the cabin, peeking in Derek's window to see if his mate was still inside.

No.

Where the hell was he?

"You're on my territory now, Alpha or not." the black wolf grumbled.

Stiles's heart stood still in his chest. Derek got out of bed for the rival wolves? Injured and all on his own? Dammit!

"And you're in no condition to fight." someone growled in a precise English accent. They smelled the blood, even if they didn't know where the injury was. Any fight would reveal the black wolf's weakness soon enough.

The crunch of gravel and the rumbling engine of a car muffled the next exchange, but the little wolf didn't wait any longer. He rushed around the cabin and jumped in front of Derek, who stood on the porch, a shirt draped over his wounded shoulder.

Tristan's car pulled behind them as the little wolf slid to a stop, stumbling on the stupid boots.

The black wolf's eyes widened, and he set his strong jaw.

All three Deucalion brothers glared daggers at Stiles, but Deucalion himself was the only one to step forward. The little wolf tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted when Tristan climbed out of his car. That changeling had his own pack, his own mate, no matter what happened between him and Derek.

"Get off our territory." the little wolf said and stood his ground. "You have no right to be here."

Derek's strong hand clamped his shoulder, and he tensed under the touch.

"You had no right to attack Tristan, but that didn't stop you!" Deucalion said.

"This isn't going to help anything." Tristan said, and glared at the Deucalion wolves.

Definitely a changeling. No born wolf would ever take that tone with his Alpha.

"Stand back." the Alpha growled.

Three against one. The odds weren't in their favor, and that was if Tristan didn't take his pack's side. If Derek wasn't injured maybe they could've managed. Why did this have to happen today?

"Why are you here?" the black wolf asked before Tristan could respond to his leader and mate.

"The hunter your omega roused harmed one of my brothers." the Alpha growled, and his fists paled as he clenched his hands.

"When?" Stiles asked, trying to calm his racing heart.

"This morning when he went for a run. He barely made it to our territory. If it wasn't for Tristan . . ." the Alpha's jaw tensed as his words trailed off.

"Ennis will be fine." Tristan said, his brown eyes softening for the first time since he'd arrived. "But this isn't going to help matters. They aren't the hunter! Why come here when it's not their fault."

But it was his fault, Stiles thought, and gritted his teeth. Something didn't make sense. One of the Deucalion wolves was wounded around the same time as Derek, but the hunter couldn't have gotten down the mountain that quickly, especially so far from the road.

"Was he on the mountain? Up high near the tree line?" Stiles asked.

"No, omega, he was in the hills around the valley." the Alpha grumbled.

The little wolf glanced up at Derek. The man's eyes had a dark smudge underneath and the crow's feet around them were pinched. He needed to get back to bed, but no way he'd go with the Deucalion pack hanging around.

"The hunter attacked us this morning too, only we were on the mountain." the little wolf said.

The Deucalions stared at him, then erupted into a conversation in a language Stiles didn't understand. Russian, he presumed, and frowned at all of them.

Tristan rolled his eyes again. "He was attacked at the same time? What does that mean? There are two hunters?"

A drop of sweat ran down Stiles's back. One hunter was bad enough, what the hell were they supposed to do against two?

"It would seem that way." Derek said, his hand still grasping the little wolf's shoulder.

Then Stiles realized it wasn't just because the man was offering him reassurance, Derek needed to lean on the smaller wolf for support. His blood turned to ice, and he glared at the wolves disturbing his wounded mate.

"If there's more than one hunter, it's still his fault they're here!" Deucalion said, Tristan grabbed his mate's arms and kissed his hands, trying to calm the Alpha. The wolf's red eyes fell to his mate, but the determined set of his lips didn't quiver.

The Alpha sighed. "So we're both under attack, from the mountain and in the valley."

"It would seem so." Derek said with a heavy sigh.

Before Stiles arrived, the black wolf and the Deucalion pack lived in a sort of stilted peace with each other, at least that's what it seemed like. But the little wolf showed up and ruined it. He killed the chickens. Alerted the hunters to the presence of wolves. Those poor cubs lost their mother because of him, and now two wolves, one he loved, were wounded. Stiles wanted to prove himself worthy of Derek, but how could he do that when he made everything worse? There was only one way to fix things, and his gut turned when he thought of it.

"I'll take care of them both." he said and glowered at the valley pack.

Derek's fingers dug into his taut flesh, but the little wolf ignored it.

"It's my fault they're here, and I'll kill both of them or die trying. It's the only thing I can do now to make this situation right."

The Alpha stared at him, his eyes narrowed.

"We'll help." Tristan said suddenly.

"What? I don't need your help! You can hardly fight, let alone track a hunter and kill it! They're human, just like you used to be." the little wolf said and glowered at the damn changeling.

The Alpha pack seemed to agree, both the Alpha and his pack shaking their heads, and Deucalion grumbled something about forbidding Tristan to go near the hunter, but the mid-ranked wolf ignored them all.

"I'm going to help whether the rest of my pack does or not. We have a stake in this too, we all do, and if we let him go out there alone, we're no worse than the hunters. I sure as hell don't understand most wolf behavior, but this is the worst of all. Ennis is hurt. Derek's hurt. Let's fix this so those hunters don't kill someone."

It was a better speech than Stiles's own, but he still glared at Tristan. He was not working with the one other wolf that caught his mate's attention, no matter how fleeting that attention was.

The Alpha stepped forward. "Fine. We'll work with you to be rid of the hunters, but if you can't find them we'll hold you responsible for anything else they do. Agreed?"

Stiles glowered at the wolf, but nodded stiffly nonetheless. What other sort of bargain could he make when the hunter's presence was due to his carelessness?

After another discussion in Russian, the valley pack climbed back into their cars and drove away. Deucalion glared hard at Stiles as he and Tristan pulled back toward the road. Once they were gone, Stiles's knees gave out, and he sat down heavily on the porch steps. What did he just agree to do?

"Oh no! I dropped them." he mumbled and gathered the poppies from the ground. He'd accidently stepped on a couple of them, the red petals ripped and smashed.

Derek sighed and slumped next to him. "You went to find the cubs, didn't you?"

Stiles twisted the stems in his hands. "Yeah. I couldn't leave them out there all alone. I put them in the lean-to for now. Do you think Dr. Deaton will know what to do with them?"

The black wolf's lips twitched. "Melissa can take them in. She runs a rescue for orphaned animals. You'll have to call her."

The man hadn't scolded him. Maybe he was too tired to be angry right now. The little wolf leaned against his mate's good shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. What if he couldn't defeat the hunters? What was he supposed to do then? All this time, and he could hardly even catch a hint of their presence in the woods. They were much too good at this, just like Derek said. But he'd made a vow, and he wasn't going to back away from it, not now. Not once he found the place he belonged. Especially after what those bastards did. Even if there were a hundred hunters, he'd defeat them all to keep Derek safe.

"These are for you." he said softly and slipped the flowers into the black wolf's large hand. "They'll help you get well quickly, I hope."

The man's chest rumbled. "I hope so too."

He still hadn't said anything about Stiles's declaration to defeat the hunters. Maybe he didn't believe it, or he was waiting for another time. The little wolf twisted his hands in his lap and his chest felt like it was about to explode if he didn't say the words right at that moment. But what would Derek do once he uttered them? When the words were said, he couldn't take them back.

The late afternoon sun trickled through the trees, and a few early insects started their song. Peaceful moments like this were what he needed to protect, why the little wolf needed to stop worrying about what Derek said and focus on how he felt.

Slowly, he turned his face towards his mate. The man looked down at him, his eyebrows raised though his face was weary. Stiles leaned up and pressed his lips to Derek's, tasting the warmth of the man's mouth with the tip of his tongue.

"I love you."

Derek stared at him, his green eyes tracing the little wolf's face and body like an artist who wants to remember something precisely so they can paint it later. The big man didn't say anything, but he didn't look angry either, almost hurt. Why would being loved hurt?

"Let me help you back to bed." the little wolf said and stood up.

He offered the black wolf his hand, and the man took it. His fingers sizzled as they touched, and Stiles's heart skipped a beat. Once Derek was tucked in, the man pulled the little wolf's hand and Stiles fell into bed next to him.

"You can wait a while before dinner." the black wolf grumbled and wrapped his good arm around the smaller wolf.

Stiles's eyes pricked and stung, and he buried his face into his mate's strong chest. The man's heart thundered steadily. Thump. Thump. Thump. He tried not to worry about everything that lay ahead.

For a simple moment, he'd close his eyes and drank in the man he loved.

To be continued …


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Melissa agreed to take the bear cubs when Stiles called her. The van picked them up that night, and Stiles steeled his nerves to talk to the woman about how he'd found them. It was all the truth, save he knew a wolf hunter had killed the mother bear. The woman's animal rescue would take good care of the cubs, Derek assured him.

The little cubs whined as she led them away, and Stiles clenched his fists.

Twilight hung about the trees. Through the canopy, the dim twinkle of stars came to life. Once the hunters were gone, they could enjoy the porch on long summer evenings. For now, he kept his keen senses on the alert as the woman pulled back toward the road, and rushed inside once she was gone.

Derek didn't eat much that night, and Stiles clung to his mate's side, listening to any change in the sleepy woods, before his own heavy lids slid shut. He dreamed of a terrible forest, a place that no longer felt like his home, and eyes that watched him from far away.

Then it all faded, and Derek wrapped him in a powerful hug. Their bodies pressed together, like they were meant to be, and he melted into the black wolf's touch. The man was safety and desire and, most of all, his mate.

* * *

Stiles groaned as he woke. Derek's hand gripped his bare shoulder and the familiar surge rushed to his groin, the telltale sign of a morning erection. He may have blushed about such things before, now he simply stared at his mate, the man's wide brow and his lips, slightly parted. The little wolf wished those powerful hands would grasp him again.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned over the black wolf and glanced at the bandage. The blood hadn't leaked through in the night. Dr. Deaton said that was a good sign.

His stiffened length rubbed against Derek's flank, and as Stiles leaned back, the black wolf's eyes fluttered open.

The smudges and lines lessened with a good night's sleep, and the man's face no longer held any hint of that pinched expression. He blinked, rubbed his face, and raised an eyebrow at the little wolf.

"You're awake in more ways than one." he said, his lips twitching at the corners.

Stiles's cheeks heated, but he set his lips into a scowl to temper them. The man still hadn't said a word about his declaration the day before. What did he expect? That Derek would kiss him and claim him on the spot? Even if he wished for something like that, it wouldn't happen.

"I had a dream about you. What did you expect?"

The black wolf parted his mouth, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you do anything but tell the truth?"

"Why are you asking that all of a sudden? I don't know. I try to tell the truth, always. Gran said the truth was all we had."

"Do you believe that?"

The woods couldn't belong to him, even if he marked an area as his territory or paid for a plot of land, it was still the earth and no one really owned it, not the way humans thought they could. All he really had was what he thought, the truth he saw in the world. If he didn't share it, what would that make him?

"Yes." he finally said. "It's all I've ever had."

The black wolf nodded slowly, and outside the window a few songbirds tweeted in a bush.

The little wolf shifted in place, his stiffness grazing Derek's leg. "Are you going to …"

"Touch you?" the black wolf cut him off.

Stiles nodded, and his breath caught in his throat as he stared at the man in front of him. The realization from the day before sharpened in his gut, stabbing his heart. Why wouldn't his mate say something? Do something?

"Yes." Stiles said.

Derek's jaw tensed, and the little wolf waited for the rebuke. The man would probably tell him to jerk off in the bathroom while he went to make breakfast.

Instead, strong hands grasped onto the little wolf's hips, hoisting him onto Derek's lap. "Scoot down." the man whispered gruffly.

Was this finally it? His mate would claim him and …

The black wolf rubbed his thumb over the tip of Stiles's cock, and the little wolf moaned, his hips buckling into the source of pleasure. Derek's own length grew with every slow caress, the shaft pounding in time with the man's heart.

The little wolf groped at it, and Derek's grip tightened on his thigh, but he didn't urge Stiles's hand away.

"Press them together." the black wolf breathed, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Stiles did as his mate said. It was the first time the man truly gave into the pleasure without a fight, without pushing him away and denying their desire for each other. The little wolf understood what birds must feel like as they soared through the air, his heart fluttered next to them at that moment.

Derek's cock throbbed against his own, the meaty length slick with pre-come. The man's hands held them together, and the little wolf moaned and leaned forward, pressing his lips into his mate's. The black wolf growled, his chest rumbling, and gripped them harder, stroked them faster, as his tongue and mouth danced with Stiles's.

It was almost as good as being claimed, almost as perfect, the little wolf thought as every nerve in his body twitched. Fire ignited in his belly with each caress of the man's hand. His fingers wound in Derek's hair, and he caught the black wolf's bottom lip with his teeth.

"Claim me." he murmured into the larger wolf's lips.

Derek grumbled in response.

Friction burned between their shafts and Derek's talented hand. All at once, Stiles wished for his release, the peak of his pleasure, but he also never wanted this moment to end.

The black wolf leaned forward, his lips trailing the rough expanse of Stiles's neck, over his smooth chest. He picked at the little wolf's nipples with his teeth, pulling until Stiles groaned and writhed.

"Please." he begged.

Maybe it wasn't fair of him to ask at a time like this, when Derek was wounded, but the words slipped out of his mouth unbidden. As if his body willed it more than his mind.

The hot tip of a tongue traced his muscles. Lapping at his flesh until it burned under the contact. Toes and fingertips tingled with the pent up excitement.

His entire body rocked with the man beneath him, like they rode a wave to the same perfect shore. With a final swipe of the black wolf's finger, it slammed into him, and he buried his face into Derek's powerful neck. His body trembled and twitched, and his mate's release came a moment later.

The man's lips were stained pink with exertion when Stiles finally looked at him. The white mess dripped from his hand, and he stared at it as if the whole experience were a new one, though the little wolf knew it wasn't.

"Are you going to tell me this is fucked up again?" Stiles asked after another moment of labored silence.

"No." the black wolf said softly. "We're mates. I can't deny that anymore than I can deny gravity."

Stiles wanted to grin, but the Alpha wasn't smiling, he stared at an indistinct spot on the little wolf's body and chewed his bottom lip, deep in thought. The lines pulled at the edge of his eyes, crinkling them.

"Are you going to claim me?" The words came out like a breath of air.

Derek sighed and met Stiles's gaze. "Someday."

It wasn't a no but the little wolf glowered at him all the same. "Someday? That's your answer? Are you avoiding it in case the hunters kill me? Then you won't have to deal with a dead mate?" he said and climbed off the man's lap.

The black wolf's eyes narrowed, and he threw his legs over the side of the bed, flinching as if Stiles punched him in his bad shoulder. "No."

"Is it because I'm too young? I'm always going to be younger than you. What kind of experience do you want me to have first? I've lived on my own. I've protected you. I'm going to find those stupid hunters! What else do I need to do?"

Derek stepped into the bathroom to relieve himself, washing his hands when he finished, before saying another word. "You could learn patience." he grumbled as Stiles glared at him.

"I've been patient. We're mates. There's no reason to wait, unless you don't want me. If that's the case then kick me out or something. It's not fair to let me stay if you don't love me back."

"I want to make sure this is what you want, cub! Not what your instincts tell you is right. Who says those can't be wrong? I want you to think long and hard about what forever means. This is the rest of your Goddamn life, with me. No do-overs. This. Is. It. This cabin. These woods. This fucking town! That's your future, and if you don't like it, there's no escape if I claim you!"

The man's heart sounded like a pounding drum, and Stiles stared at him. "Why would I want to leave? I know this is what I want. I found you. How could it not be the right choice?"

Derek ran his fingers through his black hair, and it fell neatly in place. Stiles's own hair never fell in place like that, it always stood on end even if he tried to brush it down.

The man's jaw clenched, and he squared his massive shoulders. "Because I didn't. I've been your age, Stiles. I thought I was in love with a much older woman, and it turned out all my feelings were bullshit. That's what happens when you make that kind of decision at eighteen. I don't want you to make the same mistake."

Derek's relationship with Tristan was bad enough. Now this? "You had another mate?"

"She wasn't my mate, she was a mistake. She used me to kill my entire family. Look, I know what it's like to think you're in love with someone. Everything is new and exciting."

Stiles's chest pounded, though he wasn't sure how his heart could still beat after what Derek said. Stiles wanted to back off after just being told about the massacre of his mate's family but he couldn't. "I don't think I'm in love with you, I know I am. I brought you flowers! I took care of you. I'd do anything for you, anything you wanted. We're mates! You already admitted it. You can't take it back now. I'm worthy of being your mate, and I want to be, no matter what you say. Do you want me to prove it?" he growled.

Derek frowned and gritted his teeth. "I never said you weren't worthy. Maybe I'm not worthy of you, did you ever consider that?"

Derek was both larger and older. He was the alpha, and Stiles was only an omega, according to every other wolf he'd ever met. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. Either the black wolf meant it, or he was just trying to be nice.

"Let's settle it then." Stiles grumbled.

The man's eyebrows shot up his wide forehead. "What?"

"We'll settle it how all wolves settle problems. Do you want to wait until your shoulder heals?"

Derek snorted. "You want to fight?"

The little wolf glowered at the man and crossed his arms over his bare chest. He might not be as large or as strong as the black wolf, but he was fast and used to fighting. Maybe he could best his mate in a fight, if that's what it took, or maybe it'd get Derek to realize his own worth.

"Well?"

The man stared at him. "You really think you can beat me?"

"If you're wounded, yes. I don't want to hurt you, but if you keep acting like an idiot I might not have much of a choice."

The black wolf's lip quirked at the corner, and he shook his head. "Maybe we should just eat breakfast and forget about this? I'm hungry."

Stiles narrowed his eyes and stood up straight. "You brought it up. You're the one afraid of claiming me, not the other way around. Either you fight me, and if I win I get to claim you, or we mate, right now!"

The man took a deep breath, though he curled his great hands into fists, big fists. Absently, the little wolf hoped they'd fight in their wolf forms. He'd never beat Derek as a man.

"You don't have to wrestle around to prove something to me. We're living like humans!"

"But we're wolves! I know you feel it in your bones. You might not want to be an alpha, but the urge to overpower me is still inside you. You're not only human anymore."

The black wolf grimaced, bright teeth flashing in the dim living room. "And you don't have to live like an animal!"

The little wolf thought of his dream, the unkind forest and the warmth of his mate. At the moment, it seemed his sleeping self got it all backwards. The woods welcomed him while the man he loved shoved him away. He growled and stepped forward, baring his teeth right back. "And you don't have to be a coward. Claim me or fight me. You don't have a third choice."

The vein in the black wolf's neck bulged, his naked body tense and poised for an attack, though he didn't shift into his other form. His arms tightened as he crossed them over his chest, spreading his legs to plant himself on the ground.

If he wouldn't shift, Stiles would. He slipped into animal form as simply as most pull on a pair of pants. Then he lunged forward, the man's eyes widening as the little wolf toppled into him.

Derek stumbled back and bumped into the wall, upsetting a side table and lamp along the way. The table fell with a thud while the lamp crashed, bits of broken ceramic sliding across the wooden floor.

"Stiles!" the man bellowed, but the little wolf didn't relent.

He snapped at the black wolf's legs, hard enough to bruise but not enough to break the skin. The black wolf shoved him away, but he could still hardly use his wounded arm. That was his weakness, and Stiles had to exploit it if he wanted to win.

"I liked that lamp." Derek grumbled and rounded on the little wolf.

Stiles jumped back, moving toward the kitchen. In this form, he couldn't slip outside without dropping his guard for a moment. The man should've thought of the mess this would cause before he said anything stupid though.

As soon as Derek stepped forward, Stiles charged. He caught his mate by the knee and knocked the big wolf off balance. The man toppled forward, but his body bent and cracked as he hit the kitchen's linoleum floor. The huge black wolf whimpered as it hit, the bandages falling off his front leg.

Stiles spun to face him and snarled.

Derek, now in full wolf form, growled back, his ears laid flat to his head, though he kept the weight off his hurt leg.

The little wolf jumped forward, but Derek swung his head and knocked him away. Stiles slid across the kitchen floor, his back connecting painfully with the chairs and table in the corner of the room. He hurried to stand, but his paws couldn't find purchase on the slippery linoleum.

Before Stiles knew it, the black wolf loomed over him, snapping at his neck and taking a tuff of fur in his jaws. The little wolf whined, clawing at the larger man, but the black wolf didn't relent his hold until Stiles caught his weak leg.

The little wolf leapt, and they both rolled across the floor in a flurry of claws and fur.

To be continued …

* * *

I have posted a new story called Brute. Go check it out and tell me what you think.

Please take the time to share your thoughts and read some of my other Sterek stories.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	15. Chapter 15

! This chapter includes knotting ( bold text ). Do you not enjoy Sterek knotting? Just skip the bold text. !

* * *

Chapter 15

The cabinet creaked as they slammed into it, and Derek shifted back into human form, his hand closing around Stiles's neck.

His great chest heaved. Blood dripped freely down his sculpted arm, though he seemed not to notice. Its coppery scent stung the little wolf's nose. Sharp fangs hung over Derek's bottom lip, and his eyes shone a brilliant red, even in the bright kitchen light.

"Change back." he growled.

Stiles obeyed, and the man's hand tightened as his neck shrunk back to its human size.

Sweat dripped down the man's brow, and his slick body rubbed against the little wolf's own, all hunger and rage. "Looks like I won, even with a handicap."

Stiles nodded, his breath hitched in his throat. "Yeah. You won."

The man's fingers kindled the fire in his veins, the dull throb between his legs growing every second. Glancing down, he noticed Derek in the same predicament. The man couldn't resist his animal side, even if he tried. It always clawed its way to the surface eventually.

The little wolf's skin flushed and he stared into the black wolf's eyes. The linoleum floor cooled the fever rising across his flesh, and he gasped for air as his mate studied him. What was he thinking? What was he going to do now that he won?

"Is this what you wanted?" Derek grumbled through clenched teeth and his hand slipped off the little wolf's neck.

Stiles's eyes widened. "I wanted to …"

"Wake the beast lurking inside?" His fingers burned as they scraped over Stiles's skin, groping the little wolf's sensitive nipples until he writhed. Every pinch feeding the flame in his groin.

"You are a wolf." Stiles managed through his labored breath.

Green eyes narrowed into slits. "You want me to claim you in anger? You want me to hurt you?"

The little wolf frowned and shook his head. "No! I want you to claim me like you should."

Derek's face flushed and his hands tightened on Stiles's thighs, the muscles throbbing under his touch. The Alpha's chest heaved with every breath, and the little wolf was sure the entire world stood still for that moment, that decision.

Those powerful, calloused hands slid up Stiles's strong legs, the touch just shy of gentle. Fingers groped over his rounded ass, and the little wolf's eyes widened. His mate tricked him before without actually giving in, but he couldn't help the hope that swelled in his chest nonetheless.

Lust danced across the black wolf's eyes, and he licked his lips even as his jaw clenched. Stiles took a deep breath, and silently urged his mate forward. Derek's mouth smashed against Stiles's, and the little wolf whimpered. A hot tongue darted inside his lips as he submitted to the kiss. Static electricity charged through every nerve in his body, the heat of his mate rising need throughout his whole being.

He couldn't think.

Couldn't breathe.

Couldn't do anything but react to the man looming over him.

Teeth nipped at his lips, and Stiles found his fingers digging into Derek's back. The muscles shifted under his palms, like a great beast walking. He didn't remember wrapping his arms around his mate. Didn't mean to whimper as the man pulled away, but it slipped out of his throat regardless.

The black wolf growled and yanked open the cupboard in one fluid movement, a line of bright red trickling down his left arm. He grumbled as he groped inside and pulled out a bottle of olive oil. His hands didn't tremble in the least, his heart thumping a steady and regular beat, as he poured the pungent liquid over his palm. It glistened as he coated each finger.

Stiles stared, and he wanted to say something, but everything he could think of seemed useless. Any question would just cement him as an inexperienced cub.

Derek's eyes burned when he turned them back to the little wolf. The icy gaze stabbed Stiles right in the chest, but the hardness around the man's lips softened, just a bit.

"Relax." he growled and rolled Stiles's hips forward as he leaned down. His hungry mouth teased the tip of the little wolf's cock, lapping at it, while a lubed finger pressed inside. The combination of sudden pleasure and stretching pain blurred Stiles's vision, and he arched his back, groaning.

Then Derek's lips squeezed him, and a second digit joined the first. They swirled and scissored, poking and prodding until they rubbed against something that sent a wash of stars over the little wolf's eyes.

"Ah." he gasped, and it melted away into an inarticulate moan.

He writhed as a third finger slid into his ass. This was it, this was what being claimed was like. His entire body sang for release, but Derek's lips popped free of the little wolf's length and his fingers slipped out of Stiles's entrance.

Something flashed across the black wolf's eyes, and for a moment Stiles feared he'd stop. But the man's throbbing cock pressed into his stomach, a line of pre-come shimmering on the tip, and his muscles stood tense and urgent with desire.

The little wolf reached for the bottle of olive oil, and unscrewed the top. Then he poured a generous amount onto his mate's shaft. It drizzled over the thick member, and Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat.

Derek stared at him. Then he gathered the little wolf into his powerful arms, pulling Stiles onto his lap so they sat face to face, the young man balanced on his sculpted thighs. Sweat dripped down his back as the black wolf engulfed him in a kiss, and he grasped the man's hair. Their chests pressed together, sweat slick, as Derek's thick head nudged inside, past the tight ring of muscle, until it was buried to the hilt.

"Breathe." Derek said, his voice no longer a growl.

Stiles nodded, and took a deep shuddering breath. Every nerve in his body burned, his skin tingling with a sensation unlike any he'd ever known. For the first time in his life, he was right where he belonged and nothing was going to ruin it.

"Thank you." he said in a strained whimper and kissed his mate.

The black wolf's lips welcomed him, and they rocked together, like a boat on a turbulent sea. Stiles gasped, his fingers digging into Derek's back as the man's musk consumed him.

If this is what it felt like, why did his mate want to wait?

This was right.

Perfect.

Exactly how it should be.

Their bodies collided. Friction grinded between them. Goosebumps rose across his flesh, only to have the heat of the black wolf's lips sizzle over them, melting anything that dared cool the moment. They were connected. The little wolf lapped at his mate's neck, the skin salty and clean under his lips.

Fire consumed him. Raging from his groin through all the veins in his body. It surged to his toes and the tips of his fingers. It pooled in his chest until Stiles was sure he'd burn up from the overwhelming heat.

Derek grasped the little wolf's eager member right as the pleasure threatened to shove him over the edge.

"Not yet." Derek breathed.

The little wolf writhed and rocked, every pounding thrust thundering through his body and soul until he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Please." he begged.

Derek loosened his grip and the heat of both their peaks crashed into Stiles at once. The black wolf's muscles tensed, his hands grasping Stiles's hips like he'd never let go. Stiles trembled and moaned, leaning into his mate like a limp rag doll as the waves of the orgasm washed over him. The warmth of Derek's semen filled the little wolf, cementing their bond.

**Derek kept rutting inside him, soon Stiles had the sensation of being stretched further with each and every thrust, the flesh within him was still growing and the intrusion became painful again. The knot growing at the base of Derek's cock tortured Stiles's entrance, his body tensing with discomfort, until the monstrous swelling was finally forced in with the same ferocity Derek showed earlier while satisfying Stiles.**

**The little wolf screamed in pleasure and pain as the knot entered him, tears streamed down his face as the unbelievable pressure on his prostate caused him to come hard within moments. He shuddered and moaned in ecstasy as his hole cramped around Derek's cock which jerked and filled him for the second time that night.**

**Derek's giant knot was stuck inside Stiles and the Alpha's stamina obviously surpassed any human male's as he started the rutting again without further ado. Stiles was lost in sexual rapture as he was impaled on Derek's cock, his perceptions reduced to the throbbing pleasure in his groin and the rhythmic shockwave running through him whenever the enlarged base of Derek's cock scraped over his prostate.**

"I love you." Stiles panted, and squeezed his eyes shut.

After that, whatever Derek felt for him didn't matter.

Love or not, they were mates now. Forever.

To be continued …


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Stiles grinned. In fact, he hadn't stopped grinning for the past twenty-four hours. Whatever the black wolf expected to happen hadn't, at least not yet. He moved his shoulder and glanced out at the sunny yard. The bacon sizzled on the pan, and the cub hummed an old Bob Dylan song while he mixed the pancake batter. They usually listened to classic rock while they worked, but Derek wondered if Stiles understood what the song meant.

Times were changing, indeed.

What the hell had he done the day before? For a moment, it was like the wolf inside him took over. Every time he touched Stiles's body, his fingers ignited with lust. Looking at the cub sprawled on the kitchen floor with his sculpted chest heaving, made it impossible to resist. Then Stiles touched him and clarity sharpened everything.

This was his mate.

No matter how much he pushed the little wolf away, Stiles would always come back. If Derek claimed him then, or ten years in the future, it didn't change that fact.

So he'd done it, and now he had to live with the consequences, if there were any.

"How's your arm?" Stiles asked, and the black wolf glanced down.

"Better. Still sore, but in a few more days it shouldn't bother me much."

The cub smiled and handed him the batter. Stiles was getting better at working around the kitchen. Like everything else, he'd been receptive to learning how to cook. Damn, Derek shouldn't think of the little wolf being receptive at all.

"I'll water the garden while those cook." he said and planted a kiss on the man's cheek.

His eyes lingered on the black wolf for a moment, then he trotted out the door. Sunlight fell across his bare chest and his skin shone golden in the morning light. He was probably waiting for Derek to say the L word, the words he'd only said to three other people in his whole life, and two of them were his parents.

The sweats hung off Stiles's slender hips, almost revealing the little wolf's taut ass every time he bent over. Derek kept his eyes on the woods around his mate, his hackles standing on edge, and tried to tell himself the hunter couldn't have followed them home.

He almost believed it.

Stiles came back in without incident, and he even washed his hands before he sat. "I think the peas are ready. They smelled ripe."

Derek nodded as he set the plates on the table. "We can pick them later today. We've got a dresser to finish, then we need to come up with a plan for the hunters."

The cub piled half the bacon on his plate, followed by half the pancakes.

"We? You want to help? But it's not your fault they're here."

He stared at Stiles, the little wolf's brown eyes wide. "Are you actually surprised? We're mates." Derek's chest twisted as he said it, but the other words lay hidden deep inside him somewhere. How long would it take to admit that to the little wolf?

Stiles shrugged. "I've never had a mate before. But I'm not letting you get hurt."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?"

The little wolf blanched and shoved a whole pancake in his mouth, chewing and grumbling as he did. "No." he finally admitted. "But we have to get rid of them somehow. They tried to kill us."

"Look. I don't like hunters anymore than you do, but that's a can of worms even I don't want to open. We've got to stop them though, I'll give you that." What the hell was he saying? If the hunters laid a hand on Stiles, he'd rip them limb from bloody limb. But the thought of the little wolf doing the same formed a pit in his stomach. He didn't want to end up like uncle Peter, but they may not have a choice. The hunters had to be stopped, no matter what.

The little wolf nodded, his brow furrowed. "Fine. But we might have to kill them if we can't force them to stop. It's the way wolves are."

And he probably would. Derek tried to remember the cub he rescued from the trap, but it seemed like ages ago. A whole lifetime since they first met, though it'd only been 4 months. Stiles had been determined then, if a bit rough around the edges, and he'd learned so much he was almost like a completely different person on the surface. At the core, he was the same wolf that sent a spark through Derek's body. A jolt from his groin to his heart, just what he needed. How did the universe know?

"We might, but I'm going to help you no matter what. This is our territory to protect."

Stiles grinned like the waxing crescent moon. "It is. And those nasty hunters made a mistake by coming here."

They sure as hell did.

After breakfast, they went to the woodshop. Stiles carved a design into the front of the maple drawers while Derek put the dresser's body together. When he glanced over, he noticed the fine petals and thick stems of poppies, and he smiled. The little wolf improved every day, his designs getting more and more intricate.

As the little wolf blew the dust and wood shavings away, he suddenly sat up straight, round eyes wide. "They move around!"

The black wolf almost dropped the nail clutched in his fingers at Stiles's outburst. "What?"

"The hunters move around every night. They never stay in the same place twice, that's why we couldn't find their camp after all this time. They're always moving around. I did it too when I lived in the woods."

Derek hammered the nail in place and nodded. It made sense, and it was so simple it was a wonder they hadn't thought of it sooner. He'd moved around frequently after his family died, but he didn't consider the hunters might be doing the same thing. Damn! He'd been complacent for too long. "If they're always moving, we should be able to track them with that cloth, although it might take a few days."

Stiles smiled, showing his fangs. "And if we can track them, we can use their own tricks against them, but we need some way to lure them out."

Derek raised an eyebrow and set the hammer on his workbench. "Well? How are we going to do that?" he asked, and listened to the little wolf's plan. It was a good idea. Not perfect. It still held risk, to them, but hopefully no one would lose their life.

Then his eyes trailed over the curve of Stiles's lips.

Scratch that. He wouldn't let those hunters lay a finger on his mate. If they did, murder be damned.

Tristan would probably want to know, but how necessary was it to let him help? The Deucalions would hate both him and Stiles no matter what they did, or maybe he wasn't giving Deucalion enough credit, he had been wrong about the Alpha before.

"Do you want to tell the valley pack?" Derek asked.

Stiles's grip on his palm tool tightened. "Do you think we'd need their help?"

The black wolf sighed. The only hunter he'd ever met was a formidable opponent. "Probably. I hate to say it, and I hate to ask even more, but with two hunters, we'll need the advantage on our side."

"I'll call Tristan." Stiles said through gritted teeth.

Derek closed his gaping mouth and stared. "You will?"

The little wolf nodded and wiped his hands on his pants, leaving a smudge of sawdust behind. "He agreed to help me, so I should be the one to call him. Is his number in your phone?"

The corner of Derek's lip twitched. How had he ever thought the cub was like him? "It is."

Stiles took the cell phone and stepped outside into the yard and away from the workshop. When he came back in about twenty minutes later, his hair stood on end, as if he'd run his fingers through it several times.

"Well?"

"He agreed, and said he'd talk to his pack about it." he said and set his lips into a thin line.

The black wolf opened his mouth. The words choked him, and he cleared his throat. "Good job." he muttered instead. "When did you want to start?"

Stiles lowered both his eyebrows and pouted. "Now."

* * *

The black wolf set the last trap in place, covering it with a thick layer of pine needles. They'd used all the evidence they'd gathered so far, bolts, the hunter's blood and bits of cloth, to determine where they stayed. Once they found the hunter's trail it was simple to follow, even if the hunters were always one step ahead.

They always stayed so far out of both pack's territory that the wolves didn't even notice their presence. Now that they were wise to the hunter's secrets, they had the upper hand, at least Derek hoped that was the case.

He made his way back toward his mate and crouched in the bushes next to him. Tristan and the Deucalion pack were at the second ambush spot. If everything went according to plan, they'd be finished with the hunters before the day was out.

Or the hunters would be finished with them.

A shiver chilled his spine at the thought. They'd laid a trail for the hunters, not an overly obvious trail, one that tapered off from time to time so it looked authentic. Once the men found it, they'd have to follow, and it would lead them straight here.

Stiles smiled at him, though it wasn't the same careless grin as before. This smile was tight and somewhat strained.

"I should get into position." Stiles whispered.

Derek stared at the little wolf's eyes and the thick fringe of dark lashes surrounding them. "My mate." Derek took the little wolf's chin in his hands and pulled it toward him, pressing their lips together. Stiles's fingers dug into the black wolf's thighs, and his pink tongue darted out as Derek pulled away.

"It took you long enough to admit that." the little wolf said, his cheeks flushed.

"You're right, cu ..." That wasn't fair. Stiles wasn't a cub, not anymore. "Stiles."

The little wolf raised an eyebrow. "Not cub?"

"No, you're a full grown man, not a cub. I should've seen it sooner."

Stiles grinned at that. "You'll have the rest of your life to make it up to me."

Derek nodded, and silently hoped he got the chance.

Then Stiles slipped through the trees to settle in a different bush, and the black wolf crouched to wait for the hunters and the finale of their game.

A breeze rustled through the trees and over Stiles's fur. He caught Derek's scent on the wind, and squinted through the leaves to catch a glimpse of his mate. No good. The black wolf was too well hidden.

They'd been out there for hours so far, crouching in wolf form. When the hunters showed up, if they showed up, he hoped the plan worked. Killing them was a last resort, but he'd do it if they hurt the black wolf again, no matter what Derek said.

His hackles rose, and that twisting pit in his stomach lessened as he thought of the man he loved. Derek claimed him, finally! They were officially mates, and nothing could change that. Not even a stupid rival wolf like Tristan or a dangerous pair of hunters.

And maybe someday the black wolf would love him too, not only as a mate, but also as a man. At least he admitted Stiles wasn't a cub any longer.

A branch cracked and his ears perked up. He sniffed and caught the hint of a human on the air, not just any human, one of the hunters!

Slowly, he rose to his feet as not to upset the bush, and waited. Another step and the leaves crinkled under the hunter's boots. No matter what the man did, he couldn't be totally silent with two wolves waiting in ambush for him. Was this the one that shot Derek or the one who attacked the Deucalion Alpha? He hoped for the former.

Stiles glanced back and forth, but the man wasn't in his field of vision. Just a little closer and he'd be in range.

Snap!

A scream broke through the forest's still air, and a group of birds took off from the surrounding trees at the cry. The hunter's coppery blood reached the little wolf's nose, and he carefully peeked out of his hiding place.

Another rustle, and Derek stepped out of his bush, naked and human.

The man whimpered on the ground, clutching his leg uselessly. The entire thing was snapped at an unnatural angle, the bone broken. He didn't notice the black wolf, or even pick up the crossbow he dropped when the trap closed on him.

"Look what I caught." Derek growled as he picked his way toward the hunter.

The man's clothes were leather and form fitting, and his plain brown hair was cut short, though it was streaked with gray. He didn't have any visible scars from the mother bear, but they could be under his shirt.

"A wolf." the hunter spat and reached for his weapon.

The black wolf nudged it away with his foot. "No. I don't think you're in any position to use that. You might miss."

Sweat beaded across the man's brow, and his breath came in uneven gasps. Shock, that's probably what was happening to him. "Kill me, monster."

Stiles swallowed and held his position. No use letting the hunter know he was out-numbered until they had to.

Derek crouched down. "Is that what you want? To die for all the lives you've taken?"

The man's dark eyes widened in his nondescript face. "That's exactly what a beast like you would say."

The black wolf's hands trembled, and Stiles wondered if his mate would do it, snap the hunter's neck and leave his body to rot in the woods. Instead, Derek stood up slowly and shook his head.

"No. I'm not going to kill you, but you're not going to hunt anymore wolves."

"Fuck you!"

Stiles's heart slammed in his chest almost as quickly as the hunter's, though he knew what his mate would do and the man didn't.

Derek picked up a rock and rubbed its smooth edges with his fingers. The man tried to back away, but when he moved his eyes rolled in his head, and he collapsed in a pile of leaves.

"Looks like the shock got to him." the black wolf mused.

Stiles still heard the man's faint heartbeat, and he slipped from the bush as the first bolt flew through the air. It lodged right in the hunter's chest, the man's heart stopping suddenly.

The black wolf spun on his heel and shifted at the same time, and another bolt flew through the trees and brushed his arctic fur.

Both hunters tracked them here? That's not what was supposed to happen! Stiles moved, slipping around the trees toward the second hunter. If the man focused on Derek, maybe he wouldn't notice a second wolf. And if the hunter shot his mate, he would die, painfully.

The little wolf ran.

He caught the second hunter's odor. There. In the maple trees, behind the cover of leaves. Stiles leapt when he was close enough, catching the man off guard.

Together, they tumbled out of the tree and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Rolling, they both jumped to their feet. The man, younger than the first hunter, swung his crossbow toward the little wolf, but Stiles's teeth sunk into his shoulder. A strangled cry came out of the man's mouth, and the sharp point of a bolt pressed right into Stiles's chest.

The little wolf shifted into a human as the hunter pulled the trigger.

The metal impaled his shoulder. A sharp stab of pain coursed through his body like lightning, and Stiles stumbled back, grabbing at the tip. Pulling it out would make the bleeding worse.

The hunter's blood stung his tongue, and he stared at the man's dark, angry eyes. They burned as the hunter raised the crossbow again, and Stiles fell, collapsing in a bush just as the huge black wolf tore at the man. A scream ripped through the air, cut short by the gnarling of his mate and the crack of bones.

The little wolf tried to sit up but four more wolves descended onto the hunter, blocking him from view.

In the ruckus, the little wolf couldn't hear anything but the pounding of his heart, and he blinked the tears from his eyes.

A branch cracked, and Tristan crouched by his side. His face looked a little green. "I think that hunter's dead. Come on. I can carry you back to the cabin." the rival wolf said and smiled tightly.

Stiles stared at him, then glanced at the bolt lodged in his shoulder. He tried to lift his arm, but it wouldn't obey his command, and he frowned.

"I want my mate."

The black wolf rose from the dead hunter's body, returning to his human shape as he rushed toward the injured wolf. "Stiles." he breathed and wiped the blood from his lips.

"I can't move my arm." the little wolf whimpered as Derek picked him up. The man was careful not to jar the wound.

"I'm taking him back." the black wolf said to Tristan, who nodded.

"I think they'll take care of everything out here. Go on."

Stiles nestled into his mate's chest, the black wolf's heartbeat pounding, and shut his eyes.

"I love you. God, Stiles I love you so much. Don't you dare die on me." Derek growled as he set off through the trees.

* * *

"Do you two do anything but get in trouble?" Dr. Deaton scolded as he bandaged Stiles's wound.

Derek had cleaned up, but the lines around his eyes were still drawn and tight. "We had to get rid of the hunters. How's his arm?"

Stiles wiggled his fingers experimentally. They moved, but it still tingled as if he'd slept on it wrong.

"Nerve damage." Dr. Deaton said with a frown. "It should repair itself, seeing how resilient wolves are."

"How long?" Stiles asked and set his lips into a line. He didn't want to slow down his mate if he could help it.

"It went all the way through the muscle, unlike Derek's. I'd say a month or more. It should be healed by summer, at least."

The black wolf nodded, and the doctor gave them instructions to care for the wound before he left.

The little wolf's eyes dipped shut and a breeze blew across his face from the open window. The forest smelled of fresh green things, sawdust, smoked meat and the slight odor of all the animals that lived within it. Now they'd be safe from the hunter's bolts, hopefully forever.

Derek stepped back into the room about twenty minutes later, a platter of sandwiches in his hands. "I thought you'd be hungry."

"Yeah, I am."

Derek sat next to Stiles and frowned at the bandage around the little wolf's arm, his face pinched as if the wound afflicted him instead. "You attacked the hunter head on." he said as he lifted a sandwich to the little wolf's mouth.

Stiles took a large bite and chewed thoughtfully. "I had to. I was protecting you."

Derek's lip twitched, and the little wolf waited for his lecture. He shouldn't have attacked the hunter all on his own. He should've let the black wolf help. Instead, the man leaned in and kissed his forehead. "Thank you."

"That's it?" he asked and blinked.

The black wolf nodded. "You protected me, what else should I say?"

The little wolf smiled at his mate. "Did you mean it?"

"What?" the black wolf asked, his brow furrowed.

Had Stiles imagined it or did his mate actually forget? "You said you loved me."

The man's lips smothered his with a kiss, sizzling across the little wolf's body like a fire. "Of course I meant it. I'm a damn coward for not saying it sooner. I love you."

* * *

Stiles's arm healed over the next month. Like his leg, it ached dully from time to time, but it wasn't anything serious. Dr. Deaton said even that would fade eventually.

The little wolf dangled his feet into the water and waited for Derek to get back from the store. Things had been strangely peaceful since they'd defeated the hunters. Even the Deucalion pack hadn't given them any problems. Tristan said they were willing to call another truce, but Stiles wasn't about to step in their territory and push it, not now that he had his mate.

Over the last month, any sign of the previous winter faded away. New growth burst from every tree and bush. A whole new collection of flowers littered the ground, and the little wolf collected them daily for Derek. The black wolf always smiled at the new bouquet and thanked him with a kiss.

A ray of late afternoon sunshine fell through the trees and warmed Stiles's golden skin, his chest bare. His stomach flipped when he heard the truck rumbling up the drive.

Derek climbed out of the truck and glanced around the yard. When he caught the little wolf's eye, his lips slid into an easy smile. He smiled like that a lot more lately.

"So?" Stiles asked and stepped up to his mate.

The man held out a wad of bills and placed them in the little wolf's palm. "Twelve hundred. They said your carving was impeccable."

Stiles shoved the money in his pocket and grinned. "That's not what I was talking about. I meant tonight. Are you ready?"

Derek furrowed his brow, then comprehension dawned in his pale eyes. "Are you sure you feel up to it?"

Stiles rolled his shoulder and nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine, it's been over a month already."

"All right. Let me change and we can …"

The little wolf's fingers groped across his mate's chest, pulling the buttons of the man's shirt out one by one. "You can do that out here." he said, and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Derek's collarbone.

Hands slipped through his hair, and a throaty moan escaped his mate's lips. "You really are in a hurry."

Stiles grinned up at him as he yanked at the man's zipper. "It's been ages! We've only mated once and you refused to touch me after my injury."

The black wolf's chest rumbled with laughter. "I had doctor's orders not to let you get into any physical activities!"

Derek's body lit an inferno across Stiles's chest as he tugged the jeans over the man's hips and thick thighs. "Yes. But we can finally make up for lost time, tonight."

The black wolf stepped out of his clothes, kicking his boots and socks aside, and tossing his shirt onto the hood of the truck. "And what about you?" he growled and ran his hands over Stiles's taut ass.

The sweats were loose and he didn't wear boxers underneath, it was annoying enough with one layer. Two would be unbearable. "I'm ready."

The black wolf nudged down the thin material as his lips slipped across Stiles's, their tongues flicking out to meet in the middle. The little wolf groaned under the touch, his nerves prickling with electricity at every caress. It was so close to perfect it hurt.

Then Derek's calloused palm ran down his back and over his slender hips. "Who says I want to wait?" the man grumbled into Stiles's mouth as the smaller wolf kicked off the sweats.

Stiles grinned. "Who says you have a choice? If you want me, you'll have to catch me."

His body shifted and bent into his wolf form, just as the sun dipped behind the mountain, bathing the cabin in twilight. Then Stiles sprinted toward the forest, the woods depths promising new adventures, as his mate charged after him. They darted over rocks and around trees, giving into the pull of their instincts, the allure of the woods.

Overhead, the dim outline of the full moon shone down, and the little wolf let out a playful howl, beckoning his mate closer and closer, until they became one.

The End.

* * *

Eternal love and gratitude to all my readers. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed it at least half as much as I did.

Whether you came in at the beginning or hopped on today, I love you all! Your comments and kudos really encouraged me, and I sincerely hope you continue to enjoy my stories.

I'm currently working on old and new projects. I might be lazy with updates but I will NEVER abandon a story.

I wanted to say, one final time, THANK YOU, for giving this story any kind of love. I can't even begin to tell you how much better you made this story, just by reading it. Not to mention, this experience in general was much more than I ever could have imagined. All thanks to you.


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